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dhwty-writes · 3 years

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The Terribly Sad and Tragic Affair that Is the Fake Funeral of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss

Apparently, I am not only drawing for the Critical Role fandom, but writing for it, too. After months of nearly no progress I just vomited out 3k words this Tuesday and it only went downhill from there.

This fic is based on this post by @anne-o-nyme, I really hope I managed to capture the energy of it.

Have fun!

Summary: There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience.

After the sudden "death" of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss, it is his brother Verin's job to empty out his towers. The Mighty Nein show up to help (and maybe steal a few things).

OR: Verin is grieving, Essek just wants his stuff back, and the Mighty Nein are the Mighty Nein.

Warnings: I didn't tag this with MCD, because Essek is technically alive and kicking. Since Verin doesn't know that though, and this fic is written from his POV, this is dealing with grief and includes depictions of depressive thoughts as well as anxiety attacks. For more explicit warnings, please mind the tags on AO3. Take care of yourselves, and let me know if I forgot anything.

Read on AO3

There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience. "Listen," he said with what little calm he had left, "I know that by returning one of our beacons you became heroes of the Dynasty and were placed under Es— My bro— his stewardship. But this here—" he gestured vaguely at the interior of Essek's towers that had always been too cold, too empty, but not like now, never like now— "This is a very difficult situation for me, so if you could please leave, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Yes, yes, it's very sad that Essek died," the blue tiefling said—Jester, her name was Jester; she had given him that already as she had offered him her condolences with a hug—and Verin could barely contain his anger. After the funeral he had quite enough of lying dignitaries, nobles, and heroes currying favours with him. That had always been Essek's thing, he would know what to do, how to make them regret even daring to speak up; Verin had never been any good at it.

"But we're his friends!" He grit his teeth at Jester's blatant falsehood. Perhaps his anger showed on his face, since the tiefling faltered. "And, uh— Fjord?"

"It's true," the half-orc with too-smooth words and too-smooth voice lied, too. "We spent quite some time with your, er— your brother here. Made some good memories. We thought we might take this as our chance to say goodbye, too."

"We are here to help as well. We wouldn't want to infringe upon your grief, though," the tall firbolg added. "So, if you'd prefer us to return at a later point, we'd be happy to."

Verin was still trying to process everything—from these strangers showing up unannounced to their overwhelming presence to the fact that his brother was dead—while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the halfling who looked like she might have sticky fingers. So, he latched onto the word that stood out the most to him: "Help?"

"Right," Fjord said, looking slightly embarrassed, "we probably should have led with that..."

"We should have called ahead, too," the scary-looking human in blue—they didn't even wear white for the funeral—added. "We always forget to call ahead."

"But Beau, how should we have called ahead?" Jester complained. "We didn't know Verin yet."

"Well, Essek—" the human was interrupted by the even scarier-looking woman next to her stepping on her foot unsubtly. She at least had the decency to act embarrassed. "Right. Sorry 'bout that."

Awkward silence fell across the room, the Mighty Nein looking anywhere but him. It took him a few moments to realise they were waiting for him to speak up. "Help how?" Verin could have kicked himself. By the Light, he could do better than that. He had to do better than that.

A beat of silence followed, then everyone seemed to talk at once. Verin wanted to weep. How was he supposed to deal with this? How had his brother dealt with this? 'He probably hasn't,' he thought. 'They're probably all liars, probably—'

Someone cleared their throat and all eyes turned to the other human who hadn't said anything so far and who looked properly miserable. Immediately, the Mighty Nein fell silent. "Word has reached us that Den Thelyss ordered these premises to be vacated as early as possible," he said quietly with an accent Verin has been taught that belonged to the enemy. "And while some of us may not look like much, I can assure you, we are quite capable."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I supposed such menial tasks are beneath the heroes of the dynasty. There are servants—"

"Well, sure," the halfling with the probably sticky fingers interrupted, "but we know him. Knew him, I mean; sorry, force of habit."

"Besides, there's a lot of stuff," the lavender tiefling, who Verin was pretty sure was a known pirate, piped up. "Looks like you could use the help."

"If you want to, of course," the sad Empire human added.

Verin only wanted to scream, to give room to the torrent of thoughts raging in his head. 'My brother just died. My brother just died and he wasn't consecuted, so he's gone for good. He's gone for good and I didn't even know him; I didn't even know about these supposed friends he had because he didn't allow me near him in decades. I was a horrible brother and so was he, but I can't even be mad at him because he's dead.

'And now these liars show up and talk about friendship and knowing him, but those are all lies, horrible ones, because Essek had no friends. Essek was cold and cruel and lonely and do you even know how horrible that is? Dying alone with no-one who mourns you, just the favours you still owe them? Do you? I don't even know, and I'm his brother.'

Were he a weaker man, a less disciplined one, he might have said so. But he was Taskhand Verin of Den Thelyss and he had learned discipline before he had learned to talk. So, he said: "Your help would be greatly appreciated, thank you. I'll have the servants bring up some tea. There are, uh—" He straightened his back, summoning the composure that was befitting a Taskhand, even one with a dead brother. "There are boxes up there, they've been brought to the rooms already. Anything of value will be sold; the rest will be given to charity. The things— Well, if you find anything that might have sentimental value, something in his handwriting, perhaps, I think I should like to keep that, please."

The firbolg nodded sagely. "Of course. We will be careful with our selection."

With that, Verin turned around and— froze. Where was he even supposed to start? The towers had always seemed to huge for just Essek and he knew that there were very few personal belongings in them. Still, they would have to be scoured clean within the fortnight.

A large hand on his shoulder made him jump, although he'd never admit it. "Sometimes, when a task seems too large, you should start with the smallest part," the firbolg said. "If I were you, I'd start with the smallest room."

"Thank you, that, uh— that seems like good advice," Verin replied, still a bit startled and confused. "I, er— I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"Caduceus Clay. I live in a graveyard, so I'm used to this," Clay said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Verin furrowed his brows slightly. A graveyard? It seemed highly unlikely to him that one of the heroes of the Dynasty would live in a graveyard of all places. Perhaps they were not only liars, but impostors too? But they had the symbols of the Bright Queen, so there wasn't much that he could say.

"Right," he mumbled. "I believe the smallest room would be the closet. Although it might be tied with the bathroom..." He trailed off again. He had never seen Essek's bedroom in his towers. Judging by how many times he had even seen the inside of the building; he could count himself lucky if he even found the way there.

"Why don't we split up?" Clay suggested. "One group takes the closet, one the bathroom and one the bedroom. We'd get done sooner that way."

"That is a great idea, Caduceus," Jester said excitedly. "I'll take the bathroom; I promised— er, I'm curious if I can find more of that hair oil, I got for Fjord that one time!"

"Ohhh, are you saying this is... an investigation?!" the halfling joined in.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Veth!"

"Seems like a case for Wildemount's best detectives!"

"Bye, Verin!" Jester called and he blinked and they were gone. Fjord joined them as well, muttering something about having to supervise them.

The purple pirate-tiefling shrugged, heading off in the same direction. "Well, I wouldn't mind rifling through some drawers. I'll have a look at that bedroom."

"Yeah, I don't need to see Essek's underwear, so I'll pass on the closet," Beau added tactfully—Verin was getting the sneaking suspicion that manners were not really her strong suit. She linked hands with the large woman at her side, pulling her along. "Come on, Yash."

"I'll go handle the tea," Clay said. "Don't worry about it." He vanished in the direction of the kitchen, his steps accompanied by the constant tap tap tap of his staff.

When Verin looked around, he realised that only the sad Empire human was left with him in the hallway. "If you wouldn't mind," he said, pointedly avoiding eye-contact, "I would love to have a look at the closet. I always, ah— appreciated your brother's sense of fashion."

Verin blinked at him a few times, then shrugged. "Sure." He began heading up the stairs.

"My condolences," the human continued. "I realise I didn't speak up earlier, but— I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he said, letting the same numb feeling wash over him again that he had embraced since the news of Essek's death had reached him.

"I know that we seem like a bunch of, ah— forgive my language, but assholes, but we're really here to help. I will tell the others to tone it down a bit."

"Thank you," he repeated.

"If you'd prefer that we start in, ah— less personal rooms, we can do that also."

"If I'm perfectly honest, I don't even know what I should be doing there."

"Neither am I." The human laughed nervously. "I have dealt with grief before, but I've never had the, ah— how do you call it? Hang on." He pulled out a copper wire and whispered: "Beau, how do you say zweifelhafte Ehre in Common? You can reply to this message." A moment later he straightened. "Right. I never had the dubious honour of emptying out a deceased person's house before."

"Neither did I," Verin admitted. 'Usually, the deceased person comes back,' he didn't say. Instead, he opted for: "You're, er— What's the word in Common? You're weird? I'm sorry if that's insulting, I just— waele xanalressen [stupid languages]."

"I don't understand your words, but I think I understand the sentiment." The man grimaced. "And I've heard that one before. I hope we're not too much of a... too much."

"It's alright," he lied and opened the door to Essek's bedroom.

It wasn't alright; Verin wanted to weep again.

The door to the bathroom stood ajar, as did several drawers and cabinets, although he couldn't glance inside. Considering that he heard glass shatter and a quiet "oops" followed by a hushed "Jester!" he was rather glad about that. Besides, what he saw was already quite enough to handle. Beau was currently rifling through Essek's nightstand, the tall woman tossing unread books on the bed carelessly, while the lavender tiefling seemed to make his way through his brother's collections of make-up and jewellery alike.

They froze when they spotted him and the sad human in the door. "Heeey, Verin," Beau drawled.

"These were all still closed, I swear," the lavender tiefling said immediately, gesturing at the jars in front of them.

Verin just sighed in defeat. "I don't wear any make-up, I don't care; you can have it. Put the jewellery in the box to be sold; the books are for charity if he hasn't read them. Just leave the earrings in front of the mirror, please. Those were his favourites."

Without another glance at them, Verin headed straight to Essek's closet, desperate to get some quiet. He took a few moments to collect himself, before closing the door and leaning his head against it with a heavy thunk.

He stayed like that for a minute or maybe two until he heard someone clear their throat. "I have been debating for the past fifty-five seconds, if I should just Dimension Door out," the sad human said and Verin very nearly jumped out of his skin, "but that would be loud and I didn't want to startle you. Not that I didn't startle you like this but—"

"Vithin shu," Verin cursed.

"Vithin shu ke," the sad human agreed, his accent in Undercommon even heavier than normally.

For a moment, they both stared at each other, equally startled by the course of events. Then, the human looked away again. "I, ah— have started learning Undercommon before, um— well, before." Verin tried very hard to focus on the way the human was scratching at his forearms; that way he had something else to focus on besides his nearing breakdown.

"This is a bit embarrassing, but, ah— I believe I forgot to introduce myself," the human continued. "I'm Caleb Widogast. Essek and I were... friends, yes, and ah— colleagues, of some sort. It's... complicated."

He scratched at his arms again before turning towards the shelves and pulling out a stack of tunics. He unfolded one, looked at it, then carefully folded it again, cast a cantrip to smooth out the wrinkles, and put it in the charity box. Then he repeated the procedure with the next. And the next. And the next.

Verin frowned, thinking for a moment about his words. There was something about them that seemed painfully familiar, although he couldn't quite remember. Then: "The transmutation specialist."

Widogast looked up in surprise. "Yes."

"Essek told me of you," Verin admitted.

The last time they had seen each other had been here, in these towers, just a few months ago. He had found his brother in his office, pouring over notes for a new spell, alive and healthy as ever. As always, he had entered without knocking. As always, he had pretended to read the notes. Not as always, he had noticed something wrong. "Whose handwriting is that?" he had asked.

"What?" Essek had snapped, his head whipping up. Then, however, his expression had softened. "Oh. A friend's. A colleague, of sorts. He's helping me out, a bit."

"With the spell?" Verin had asked incredulously.

"Yes. He's a transmutation specialist; you know that's not my forte. Now give it back, will you?"

"A colleague, huh?" He had grinned and held the paper out of Essek's reach. "Are you sure that's all?"

Perhaps Essek had been sick after all, for the strangest thing had happened: instead of using his floating cantrip to snatch the notes back, he had gotten a dreamy, far-off look in his eyes. He had even smiled with an expression Verin might have called dopey, if it weren't his brother they were talking about. After a few moments, he had snapped out of it, sighed, and said: "It's complicated."

"Did he?" Widogast asked tentatively. "Did he, ah— did he say anything else about me?"

Verin pinned him down with a glare, sizing him up. In hindsight, he should have noticed the thick spellbook at his hip earlier; judging by his slim frame alone, he should have known the man was a wizard. He supposed Widogast was handsome enough, although his brother had never cared much for that, with his copper hair and his striking blue eyes. Blue eyes around which crows' feet were gathering, as he noticed to his dismay. 'He's human,' Verin reminded himself. He might have a few decades left, maybe, whereas Essek had centuries ahead of him. The thought why his brother might condemn himself to more loneliness crossed his mind, though it hardly mattered. His brother had been the first to die, after all.

"Verin?" Widogast inquired quietly.

"I'm sorry," he answered with a thick voice. "I got lost in my thoughts there. He, uhh— he said that he trusted you." That didn't even begin to cover it, but these Mighty Nein had been lying to him since the moment they got here, so what was a little lie by omission? Besides, there were some memories that he wanted to keep just to himself.

"Essek," he had teased, still waving the sheet of paper out his reach. "Come on! Aren't we brothers?"

Essek had crossed his arms and pouted. He hadn't done that since they were both little. "Unfortunately. You are a menace. And a child."

"If you tell me about him, I'll give it back. Is he handsome? Is he a drow? Where's he from? How did you meet? When will I meet him? Can I promise to kill him if he hurts you?"

"Verin!" Essek had groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"What do you do when you meet? I bet you stay up all night, talking about 'arcane research' or something."

"We do, in fact. Are you done now?"

"Oh, is that what young people call it these days?" He had cackled at his own joke.

"Evidently not," Essek had muttered. "Might I remind you that you're younger than me?"

"Might I remind you that you're a buzzkill?" Verin had shot back and placed the note down. He had gotten bored of his own game.

Essek had taken the sheet of paper almost reverently and thanked him. "I would have hated it to rewrite that page." He had smoothed it down, stored it safely away in a folder, silent for a long time. Then, he had said: "Caleb."

"Excuse me?"

"That's his name," Essek had said. "Caleb Widogast."

Verin had frowned. "Hey, Essek?"

"Hm?"

"You must trust him a lot, to share a spell with him."

His brother had taken a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. Verin hadn't expected him to answer, yet he'd said: "I do, actually. It's not the first spell we've created together and I would be honoured to create a thousand more with him. I'd trust him with my life, my death, and beyond. I think—" He'd huffed. "I think I trust him almost as much as I trust you."

Verin watched Widogast as he was looking through his brother's tunics, placing most of them in the charity box, and he wondered. Wondered if the trust Essek had obviously put in Widogast had been misplaced. Wondered if it had extended to his friends, as well. Wondered if ultimately trust had been his downfall, as he'd always feared.

Then again, if Essek had trusted him... perhaps that trust had been mutual. Perhaps they had been friends. Perhaps there was another person mourning his brother after all.

"Do I have something on my face?" Verin had given up on counting how many times Widogast had now startled him out of his thoughts.

"No, no I—," Verin stammered. "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head to the side. "For staring?"

"No, er— For your loss." Liar or no liar, it only seemed appropriate.

"Oh." Widogast turned back to the tunics. Verin probably should get started, too, shouldn't he? "Thank you. Though I'd wager your loss weighs heavier than mine."

"Probably," he agreed and turned to the task at hand. At this point, Widogast had moved on from the simple tunics to Essek's court regalia. After a short moment of consideration, Verin decided to look through the pants; he also had no interest in sorting through his dead brother's underwear.

Out of the corner of his eye he kept watching the wizard, pulling out one cloak after the other. At a few he wrinkled his nose, at others he just stared before putting them with the tunics. After a while one made him pause; an elaborate, beautiful robe in deep purple. "This is what he was wearing when we first met him," he said.

'He hated that one,' Verin thought. Not that he could say that out loud. Instead, he cocked his head and asked: "Are you sure? He has a lot of those. Had, I mean. Had a lot of those."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He tapped his temple with a faint smile. "I have a good memory."

"As does Essek," he snapped, suddenly feeling very defensive about his brother's capabilities. "I suppose most wizards do."

Infuriatingly, Widogast only nodded. "Indeed. Or they're not very good ones."

Silently, Verin turned back to the trousers. The sooner he got done, the sooner he got these people out of his brother's towers, the better. He didn't know for how long they worked in silence, Verin reminiscing about the times he had seen Essek wear the clothes and wondering about those he didn't know. Eventually, he folded the last of them and forced himself to return to the present. "I think we're done here," he announced. "Do you have a preference for a next room?"

"Perhaps the library?" Widogast offered a tentative smile. "I think I might be of more use there than folding clothes."

"More use than I will be, surely."

"I take it the wizardry doesn't run in the family, then?"

Verin only scoffed and opened the door to the bedroom again.

He immediately spotted Beau leafing through one of the books Essek had never read, while the tiefling was chatting amiably with the aasimar while braiding her hair. He also noted the boxes neatly stacked in the middle of the room. Besides that, he noticed with a heavy heart, the room looked much the same. If anything, it looked less orderly and empty than before. Except for—

"Where are Essek's earrings?" Verin demanded to know.

"What earrings?" the lavender tiefling replied with a too-wide grin the same moment Beau said: "Dude, there's tons of them, why don't—"

"No," he said decisively. "Essek's favourite earrings; they're always up here. I told you about them. Where are they?" His hands curled into fists, his neatly manicured fingernails pressing almost painfully into his skin.

"Perhaps you should look in one of the boxes," the aasimar woman suggested "I'm sure they're—"

"You're lying," Verin interrupted her, barely containing his anger. "Why are you lying? If they're in one of the boxes, then only because you put them there. So: where are they?"

Widogast only now stepped out of the closet, wearing an amber necklace he hadn't noticed before. "Verin—" he said tentatively, but he'd had enough.

"Shut up!" He startled himself with how loud his voice was. But he was beyond caring. "I know they're not in there, because the only ones to put them in there would have been you. So, either you're lying about having them put in there, or you're lying about stealing them, I don't care. Just— please. Please give them back."

The four of them passed a guilty glance. "We can't," Beau replied finally.

"The fuck you can't," Verin spat. "Give them back!"

"Verin, love, we would really love to," the tiefling added, "but we can't."

"I don't understand; is it precious things you want? Here, have some!" He strode over to the boxes and ripped the first open, tossing the lid towards the bathroom door Jester was peeking out of. He reached in to grab a necklace—an ugly one, he had always thought, with a stylised beacon—and threw it in their direction.

Beau caught it. Of course.

"Have a whole box, actually, if you like them so damn much." He reached inside and pulled out a jewellery box, tears prickling in his eyes. He threw one of those, too, just for good measure. It gave him some satisfaction that Widogast had to dodge it. "Just give me back the bloody earrings that my brother wore at my fucking consecution!" He was properly crying now and could only imagine the mess he looked like, but he had reached his limit. And, in his opinion, he was allowed to with all that was going on.

At least they looked a little bit guilty. "Fuck man, we didn't know," Beau mumbled.

"It's just one pair, Beau," Jester called over from the bathroom. "I'm sure it will be alright."

"Yes, there's no need for this to escalate," Fjord agreed and strode over to them, his hands raised innocently.

"I don't even know you people," Verin muttered, looking at the people crowding into his brother's bedroom. "Why did I even let you inside?"

"Do you want the earrings back?" the aasimar woman asked, reaching into a bag at her hip. Had she been carrying a greatsword for the whole time? Verin suddenly noticed how overpowered he was, were he to face all of them. "You can have them back if you want. Here, you can have them back."

"For a moment," Widogast added, slowly drawing closer to him and taking the earrings from the aasimar. He held them out on his flat hand, almost like he had seen soldiers offer treats to horses. His whole demeanour reminded him of someone trying to calm a spooked animal. For some reason, that seemed hilarious to him and he couldn't help the hysterical giggle that escaped his throat.

"Verin, I need you to calm down," he continued. "I know that's easier said than done, but you need your head."

"I think we should all calm down," Clay said from the doorway. And despite being surprised again, he did. It didn't make any sense, but few things these days did.

"Did it work?" the halfling asked. Verin wasn't really sure what she was talking about.

"It did," Clay confirmed.

"Gut," Widogast said and pressed the earrings that had seemed so important a moment ago into Verin's hands. "I think we should maybe go somewhere else, ja? Will you come with me?"

Inadvisable as it might be, if Essek had trusted that man, he should, too. And out of all of the Nein, he seemed to be the most normal one. The one he could see Essek with most. So, he nodded.

"I'll get us back to the kitchen, quickly." Caleb held out his hand and Verin closed his eyes, steeling himself. 'I hate Dimension Door,' was the last thing that crossed his mind before the teleportation spell ripped him away, together with: 'We haven't been to the kitchen, yet.'

Evidently, there went something wrong with the spell. Verin didn't know much about magic, but he knew Dimension Door couldn't transport more than two people. So, when he heard Beau groan and say "Fuck, dude, warn us next time," he knew that something wasn't right.

"You knew about the plan, Beauregard," Widogast replied.

"It doesn't matter," Fjord decided. "Caduceus, do you think you could make tea again? I think the Calm Emotions is about to wear off."

Cautiously, Verin opened one eye, then the other. They were, in fact, standing in a kitchen, as far as he could tell. All of the Mighty Nein were surrounding him. The furniture seemed to have been made for people taller than them; Essek probably would need to float in order to avoid awkwardly climbing onto the chair. The firbolg, however, who was fussing with a teapot, seemed to fit right in. All in all, the interior was very rustic. And very much not in Essek's towers, not that he had ever seen that room, of course.

The panic hit him once more. Verin whirled around to the wizard, instinctively grasping for his sword. "Where the fuck—" he faltered, finding his hip bare. Of course, he hadn't brought it for the funeral. Instead, he opted for just grasping Widogast by the lapels and lifting him up a bit. It was supposed to be menacing, which surely would be more effective, were humans not so annoyingly tall. "Where the fuck are we?!" he spat out.

A lot of things seemed to happen at once—he heard a "Fuck, man, what-" from Beau, a "Well, Mister Thelyss" from the pirate, several hands trying to tug him away from the weak wizard—but he didn't pay them any mind. He just shook Widogast, who looked entirely too calm for his liking, and demanded: "Answer me!"

"Leave him," was all Widogast said. "He has every right to be angry."

Indeed, the people grasping at him retreated, still on guard and surrounding him. There was a creak outside the door and Verin desperately wished for his sword once more. Then, a voice cut through the tense silence that had descended over the kitchen: "Caleb, is that you? You're back early."

"Yeah, there were some complications. Best come and look yourself, Schatz."

There was a sigh that was entirely too familiar for Verin's liking. Then, the door opened with a creak and in walked a dead man. "Complications," Essek Thelyss said with a fond smile. "I was just a Sending away, what did you come here fo— oh."

The person wearing his brother's face stopped in their tracks as they saw him. A couple of complicated emotions passed over his face—confusion, surprise, regret, guilt. If he hadn't known before, Verin was certain now that they were impostors, all of them. His brother would never tolerate such a display of weakness. Still, the impostor said: "Hello, brother."

Verin whipped his head back around to the wizard in his grasp. "What the fuck are you playing at?" he hissed.

"I- what- Verin!" the Essek-impostor sputtered. "What are you doing; put him down!"

"I would appreciate that, yes," Widogast added.

"Not before you don't tell me what's going on."

"Going on?" The impostor sneered and shook his head in a perfect imitation of his brother. "Nothing is going on, Verin."

"You died," he accused him.

"Evidently not," Essek scoffed.

Verin narrowed his eyes, looking from the man claiming to be his brother over the other too calm wizard to the rest of the Nein, seemingly perfectly happy to let this play out. "Prove it," he demanded. "Tell me something only my brother would know."

"You've become paranoid," he noted and Verin couldn't decide if it sounded proud or disappointed. "Alright. When you and I were in our early thirties, you once got in trouble for scaling the outside of mother's mansion. Rightfully, I should have gotten in trouble, too, but I was hiding on the attic. And the reason you never told anyone, is because then you'd have had to explain that I, the wizard, had somehow outpaced you, the fighter, in a climbing competition."

Verin wrinkled his nose at that. "Well, my brother cheated."

"I did not cheat, thank you very much!" He huffed indignantly and crossed his arms. "You didn't say 'no magic' before we started."

He stared at Essek for a few moments. "It's you," he whispered.

"Obviously."

Verin dropped the wizard on the ground and looked over at his brother; really looked. The man looked nothing like the one he had known for most of his life. His hair was longer than it had ever been since he'd cut it off and his bare feet were touching the ground. His clothes were casual, a simple tunic and trousers. After this day, Verin knew for a fact that not even Essek's trancing clothes were that informal, and yet his brother looked more comfortable in them in another's house than he had in decades. On top of that, he kept glancing over to Widogast. And smiling. Essek was smiling.

No, this man looked nothing like the one Verin had known for nearly a century. But he looked a lot like his brother.

"You're alive," he said stupidly.

"Yes, of course I am," Essek said, as if Verin hadn't just attended his funeral.

It felt only right to tell him so: "Why are you alive? I was at your funeral."

"That's a long story," he sighed and floated onto one of the chairs that were slightly too tall for him. He accepted a cup of tea from Clay with thanks and turned back to Verin. "Why are you here?"

"Well, that's a pretty long story, too," Jester spoke up. "He kind of started freaking out about your earrings, I think? And he was crying and looking pretty awful and everything, right Caleb?"

"I, ah— didn't think he'd believe us if we told him about you," Caleb said. "So, we had agreed beforehand to bring him here, in case of an emergency."

"He thought we were lying," Clay added.

"I suppose it is my story to tell," Essek said. "Earrings, Verin?"

"They're your favourite," Verin said stupidly and held them out to him.

His face grew soft. "Oh," he said as he took them gingerly, "I didn't know that you kne—"

Before he could overthink and do something stupid like stop himself, he surged forward and enveloped his brother in a tight hug. After a moment Essek closed his arms around him, too.

It seemed so unreal, to be able to hold him after mourning him for what felt like years. All the worries, all the grief and anger that had crushed him in the past few weeks and for what? For the bastard to still be alive after all. It wasn't fair. Why had he had to go through all of that? And why did he feel the pressing urge to start crying again? He should be happy, shouldn't he, that his brother wasn't dead. So why did it make him feel so awful?

"I think this is our cue to leave," Fjord said. Verin felt his brother nod and heard the Mighty Nein shuffle out of the kitchen, the door closing behind them with a creak.

Only then, Essek spoke up. "Verin," he asked quietly, "are you crying?"

"Shut up," he mumbled through the thick fog of tears and snot, definitely not crying. "I hate you, Essek. Do you know what I went through?"

"Meeting the Mighty Nein? Yes, I can imagine."

"They're horrible," he complained. "They're loud and they're rude and they had absolutely no respect for any of your belongings! I thought I was going mad."

"They are. They also are my friends, you know."

"How?" he asked agonised.

"I know they don't look like it, but they are surprisingly capable. And I am sure that you've noticed most of them to be annoyingly charming. But I think their absolute worst traits are their infinite stubbornness and perseverance. They quite literally did not leave me alone until they had befriended me."

Verin glanced up at him questioningly. "And were half in love with the wizard?" he guessed.

Essek scowled darkly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Perhaps."

He snorted and disentangled himself from their embrace. Very calmly he said: "You're a liar."

Essek looked genuinely startled at that. "What?"

"You said, you trusted me more than him. Why then, did he know and I didn't?"

"It's... complicated," he said.

"You wizards say that a lot."

"Verin." Essek closed his eyes. "I trust you. Implicitly. And I care about you. Which is why I chose not to burden you with the knowledge of my misdeeds. I didn't— I didn't want to put you in an impossible situation to choose between me and our queen."

He laughed nervously. "What on earth are you talking about? I mean, you didn't commit treason or anything."

Essek didn't answer, avoiding eye-contact instead.

"Right?"

Still, Essek kept stubbornly quiet.

"Oh," Verin breathed. He took a moment trying to reconcile what he knew about his brother with the fact that he was apparently a traitor. It all fit together ridiculously easy. "The beacons."

Essek looked up at him in shock and he knew he had hit the mark. "What?"

"You stole the beacons." Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Essek had been studying them at the time, one of the only people with frequent access to them. He had always been fascinated by them, yet his theories had been rejected for their heretic nature. As Shadowhand, he had also regular contact with counterparts from the Empire, albeit not officially. Then, a few years after Essek’s research had been denied, they had vanished. How had he never seen this before?

"Oh Essek...," he said softly.

"No, please— I don’t—Please don’t—” He seemed to deflate, curling in on himself. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you, I—”

"I don't care,” Verin interrupted his frantic ramblings.

"What?" Essek looked up at him, looking just as shocked as Verin felt.

“I don’t care,” he repeated, realising that it was true the moment the words left his mouth. For how could he care about something as trivial as treason when Essek was sitting right in front of him, alive and well. "You're my brother, I don't care. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a year. Maybe in ten. Right now, I only care that you're alive."

“I—What—I don’t—” Essek stuttered, lifting and then lowering his hands a few times. “I don’t know how— If I can—Fuck.”

There was a joke on the tip of his tongue, but even he knew that this wasn’t the right time for it. Essek was obviously trying to tell him something and it took him a minute to decipher that strange behaviour. “Are you asking for a hug?” he hazarded a guess.

An agonised expression passed over his face and for a moment Verin thought there were tears gathering in his brother’s eyes. Surely not. “I don’t know if I may. I don’t mean to overstep—”

Without further ado, Verin stepped forward and gathered a yelping Essek up and squeezed him tightly. “Of course you may!” he assured him, awkwardly patting his shaking shoulders. “I love you, Essek. I am very glad that you’re alive.”

“I’m very glad to see you, too,” Essek answered and squeezed him a little tighter.

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linkspooky · 3 years

Text

"The Only Ones the Heroes Protect Are Themselves."

is a quote given to us by Dabi. That's starting to sound more and more true after this press conference chapter. This post will be mainly talking about Hawks, because I think this chapter sheds a lot of light on Hawks' flaws as a character.

I think for understanding Hawks it's important to know this:

And this:

Are both Hawks. Hawks is both the person willing to manipulate, scheme and ruthlessly hunt down others for the sake of the greater good, and he's also the person who just wants to help because his whole life he's felt useless and unworthy. Hawks is both the overly idealistic child who believes in heroes and just wants tp help the heroes, and at the same time, the cynical adult who thinks heroes can't always save people.

Some part of Hawks is aware that this darker side of him exists. He tells the hero commission that he's willing to dirty his hands for the sake of general peace. He specifically warns the villains not to underestimate his resolve. He tells Twice that he's not the type to get tripped up by sentiment in the crucial stages of his plan.

However, at the same time Hawks doesn't cop up to this side of his personality. If you confront Hawks about his actions in any way he switches back to his hero-mode. I don't believe this is because Hawks believes himself to be a good person. I don't even think Hawks defines himself as a person to begin with, just a tool. It makes sense that Hawks doesn't have a consistent identity it all goes back to his origins.

All Hawks could do was internalize everything he felt, and every abuse hurtled at him by his parents. All he wanted to believe back then was that he wouldn't turn out the same way they did. He wanted to believe in some good part of him.

However, I wonder if Hawk truly believes he's good. If he truly believes he's a good hero. He seems to have internalized so much of his abuse when he was younger that he has little self worth and all of it, is built around what kind of things he does for other people. He has to believe he's helping other people, because otherwise he crumbles. Otherwise the part of his head that tells him he was just trash the hero council picked up on the side of the road, is right.

I'm touching upon all of this to say Hawks does not really have a sense of self-identity. It's very weak, and he bases it on things are around him instead, things he can cling to provide him some sense of self worth, his role as a hero, his pseudo-imagined relationship with Endeavor, the idea that the things he's doing is ultimately for the public good. Because he's clinging to these things it makes it almost impossible to be self-critical. Because if Hawks isn't a hero, then he's nothing. Hawks also, similarly, can't deal with any criticism to the institution of hero because that's the institution that saved him, that's where he belongs, that's where all of his personal relationships are.

Hawks previously thought everything he did was for the public good, because heroes protected the people, hero and the public were both aligned.

However, when the public they're protecting begins to question the heroes, when they're not alligned Hawks picks the heroes.

Now I'll touch on Enji briefly to give an example of why this is wrong. Enji's excuse for why he didn't do anything with Toya, why he didn't even try to be a father, was because he was a hero first before he was a person.

Both Enji and Hawks (they're meant to be read as character foils) divide their personalities this way. They are who they are as heroes, before their faults and individual failings as people. However, in reality, they're just running away from their actions. Enji is depicted entirely in shadow in these few panels, the same way Hawks is depicted in shadow when confronting Twice.

Ultimately it doesn't matter if whatever Hawks did to Twice was justified or not, the problem is he wasn't a hero to Twice. He decided in that moment Twice was not worth saving. He divided that line between who gets to get saved, and who doesn't.

What I mean when I say that Hawks is unable to cop up to the darker sides of his personality, is that he's unable to acknowledge when he's done a bad thing. Which is also, something he shares in common with Enji. Enji's failures are never personal ones, he's never the one at fault. Toya's death was what drove him to train Shoto so hard (nevermind the fact he was already doing that beforehand.) Toya attacking Shoto was the reason that Enji had to isolate Shoto (nevermind, that Toya himself a thirteen-year-old kid was able to recognize that he was wrong to blame his brother, but it's still unfair for his father to put all his attention on Shoto and leave the rest of his kids alone). Uraraka is the narrator for this chapter, but Uraraka also said this.

IThe real question is, are heroes to be held individually responsible for their actions? Can we criticize heroes as people? Hawks, Enji, and Jeanist all seem to believe that identity and world of heroes is far too important to level criticisms at any individual. That the world of heroes somehow, elevates them from others in a way that makes them impossible to understand, because they have more responsibility.

I'm not going to say Hawks doesn't feel sorry for Twice. He expressed like, the greatest possible expression of public apology he can. The problem however is everything else about Hawks. Twice apologizes for the act of killing twice and expresses it as a moral failing on his part, while stating he had no choice before that point.

Hawks is unaware of his own personal biases, and his own flaws, and therefore properly can’t account to them. He thinks his failing was that he couldn’t convince Jin to join his side. Not that his wrongdoing was his act of choosing only Jin to save because he was one of the “good” victims, and only offering Jin the chance to atone conditional on him betraying his friends. He’s still picking and choosing between good and bad in who he helps. And Hawks’ standards for that are pretty biased. Notice how his help for Enji doesn’t involve mandatory jailtime and atonement for his crimes like it did with Twice. Enji still gets to remain a hero.

Hawks has a bias and it goes on unacknowledged, by framing his actions as heroic and for the greater good.

His priority isn't to make the same mistake again with Twice or even to feel bad about Twice, it's to stop public criticism. It even comes down to the way he frames his own actions, Hawk doesn't acknowledge the part of him that manipulated Twice, held him at gunpoint, forced him to choose between his friends and his own safety, cruelly taunted him. All of things which were by the way, an abuse of his power, and things Hawks did because he personally likes to feel in control of situations not because it was necessary for the greater good to break Twice mentally like that.

Hawks didn't do all those things in the Hawks vs. Twice situation, because he was forced to in a bad situation. Hawks planned the whole situation out to give himself control over the situation, and try to manipulate Twice into siding with him because he liked Twice. It's like, written in a very specific way to show how manipulative Hawks is for setting things up this way, the whole thing was a set up. However, hawks can't cop up to that. He frames it like an oopsie daisy. He frames it like something he did in the heat of the moment because he felt like he had no other choice, and not something that was pre-meditated and all set up by him beforehand. It's because, while Hawks acts like this, he never owns up to his actions, he only ever frames himself as the guy willing to sacrifice anything in order to help people. The guy determined to be helpful and useful to others. Therefore he can't find fault within himself and he can't find fault within heroes.

Even with Enji, his first response isn't, "Wow, if heroes are using their position to cover up their crimes we should investigate how other heroes might be abusing their families." It's to find a way to make Enji look good for the public, so the public gets off his back.

Uraraka says that if Toga wants to threaten people she has to live with the consequences, but the heroes aren't living with conesquences for their actions. It's not just that Hawks murdered someone. I mean after all, I argue that Toga who kills lots of people., Shigaraki who destroys whole cities, Dabi who admits to murdering 30 people, are all people who I think are going to get positive character development.

However, they all also accept that they're going to be seen as murderers. Dabi calls himself a murderer live on television. Toga accepts it, when Uraraka says that she has no choice but to put her down if she's going to hurt others. Shigaraki even holds himself responsible for the murder of his family which was a complete accident, he had to have his reluctance to hurt other people beaten out of him.

It's not that Hawks murdered a person, but rather he can kill a person and not see himself as a murderer. Just speaking in terms of character development, to have a character arc, a character must first acknowledge they are wrong, and then work to improve on that wrong. Hawks hasn't reached the first part.

Hawks and Enji are unable to admit to their personal failings, because not only do they appear to the public only as heroes, but they also think "Heroes" are like a special protected class of people. They can make up for all of their flaws by being good heroes. However, it's not the public that they're defending. Just like it's not his family that Enji is really doing all these things for. Time and time again, they choose to be heroes over everythig else, because the world of heroes is the only place they exist in. Being seen as a good hero is what validates both of them. For Hawks it comes from his own perosnal trauma and loneliness, from Enji his priority of being a good hero above everything else. So if you ewre to strip all of that away, if you were to admit, that Hawks deciding to kill Twice, that Enji abusing his family, doesn't make them very good heroes? Means they aren't entitled to being heroes anymore? What would be left of them for both of them? They'd just be left with what they've done and who they are and neither of them are or were ever very happy with themselves. Which is why, rather than trying to be better people. Trying to address the cricticisms that other people have lobbied to them, including Endeavor's own son who was personally hurt by him. It keeps coming back to being better heroes.

They're not heroes though, they're just people. Everyone is just people in the end.

#mha meta #dabi #hawks #touya todoroki #keigo takami #mha 306 #mha 306 spoilers #bnha 306 #bnha 306 spoilers

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing

Part Summary: While Y/N is out shopping with Cara, news breaks that ties her with MGK.

Masterlist

Two days later...

Cara and I go out shopping and have lunch for a girl’s day. I have yet to talk about the other night with Sam. Cara hasn’t mentioned it and I have no plans to either. Cameras have followed us up and down Rodeo Drive. By this point, Cara and I are both used to it. Carrying my bags however, I doubt I look graceful for these videos their taking. Oh well, they have fifteen thousand more of me.

“CARA! EXCITED TO WALK IN THE CHANEL FASHION SHOW?”

Cara ignores the paparazzi and points out a dress in the window at Dolce and Gabbana. I request to go inside to try it on. I’m not sure where I’d wear it to, but that doesn’t really matter.

“Welcome ladies!” A woman in a black dress approaches. “Can I help you find anything in particular?”

I point over to the dress in the window, “could I see that in a size six please?”

She leaves us to go find the dress for me and we roam around a small section while she does. My phone rings and I see Nicole’s name pop up. My heart immediately begins to race. She doesn’t call me unless absolutely necessary, usually we text. I step away toward the corner to be discreet.

I answer the call hesitantly. “Nicole? What’s up?”

“I got a call from Stephanie,” she sounds agitated on the other end.

Stephanie is my publicist, she handles everything that Nicole can’t basically. They bicker a lot since they’re both so headstrong and constantly need control. It’s the classic good cop/bad cop scenario, yet I don’t know who’s who. These two cover every aspect of my career, God bless them.

“Oh no, sounds bad,” I grumble anxiously.

“Depends how you look at it,” she lightens her tone.

“What is it?” I press.

“Well…” she hesitates.

“Nicole!” I drag out her name.

“It’s all over social media, magazines and it will be on TMZ tonight,” she stammers. “I’m surprised you haven’t already heard if I’m being honest-”

“Nicole! What?” I rush her.

“An article about you and Colson Baker just dropped on some gossip sight,” she explains. “It says that you and Colson Baker are dating. Stephanie and I figured no one would believe it but it’s everywhere! They have videos and photos of you two leaving The Ivy plus talking by Sam’s car. If I didn’t know you, I would be convinced.”

My head hangs low as I rub my forehead, letting out a deep sigh. “Oh dear God.”

“We can handle it, don’t worry!” Nicole assures. “This story will be gone soon!”

“I need to go, talk to you later!” I hang up on Nicole right when the woman shows me the dress.

“I’ll take it” I attempt to hurry up the process.

Cara comes up next to me “don’t you think you should try it on first?”

“I’ll explain later but we need to go” I whisper to her and just like that, she’s hurry the woman along at the register.

I have the dress and exit the store in a rush. I must act cool, the paparazzi will take notice of my mood change.

“HOW’S COLSON, Y/N?”

“SEEING HIM TONIGHT?”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DATING?”

“HOW ARE GONNA HANDEL HIS FANS?”

“HAS HE MET THE FAMILY YET?”

“What’s going on?” Cara asks concerned.

“I’ll explain once we’re somewhere private,” I whisper so the cameras don’t pick up on it.

We speed walk to the car and I offer to drive since I made us cut the day short. Once we’re on the highway towards home Cara asks what the heck is going on.

“Why did they keep asking about Colson?”

I turn on the radio and Elvis Duran, along with his team, are discussing no other than me and Colson.

Danielle summarizes the article for the listeners. “The article says they’ve been dating for the past few months. They’re very happy but the relationship is still new. The pair has not yet met each other’s families but Colson is going on tour soon so maybe Y/N will join him and eventually meet the family. Throughout, there are tons of photos of the cute young couple leaving The Ivy Wednesday night. There’s even a link to a video showing them, what appears to be, having a deep conversation by Sam Merka’s car. If you watch the video, the two are clearly looking at each other very lovingly. I mean, he’s looking at her the way I look at a fresh pizza!”

The rest of the cast laughs and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Actually, scratch that, I can believe it. I’m just pissed.

“If MGK and Y/N are officially an item, why did she leave with Sam Merka?” Elvis questions.

“I’m glad you asked! According to sources, they’ve been very close friends since the start of TSL. In fact, the duo have taken many vacations together along with their co-star Penelope Glass.”

Cara turns down the volume and looks to me with a steady expression. “Is it true?”

I narrow my gaze at her in bewilderment. “What? No! There’s no way in hell!”

“Okay, just checking,” she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Never ever!” I add and change the station.

Colson Baker is everything I despise in a person. I’ve never hated someone so fast as I’ve hated him. Us together as a couple is impossible. It’s completely irrational.

_________________________________________________________

Later in the afternoon, Stephanie sets up a meeting for us to meet with Colson and his publicist. I had to drag myself to her office. My Fridays aren’t well spent in an office building with enemies. In fact, my whole day could be tarnished by this incident. The meeting room we’re all ushered into is freezing and I’m still in my sundress from earlier. Cara and I were never able to get lunch so I’m starving on top of being cold. The photos of us play in a slideshow on the meeting room’s tv. An endless cycle of false advertisement is how I see the photos. The media is selling us as something completely far from the truth. On top of everything, I’m in a meeting with the one guy in all of Los Angeles I can’t stand. Death would be less painful than the current situation. I tune out the debate between Stephanie and Colson’s publicist. He told me his name but my brain is so numb from the temperature in here I can’t recall it.

“Y/N!” Stephanie calls my name and I search for her around the room until I find her in the doorway with Colson’s publicist.

“We’re going to go make a few phone calls. You two will stay here while we handle the press.” I nod “sounds good.”

I send her a weak smile to charm her out of an apology for zoning out. She huffs and escorts Colson’s guy to her office so they can talk on speaker privately. I stand up from my office chair and stroll over to the windows overlooking the courtyard. I watch the cars zoom by on the street and businessmen and women shuffle in and out of the Starbucks below.

“If it means anything, I’m sorry,” Colson says quietly behind me.

I nearly miss it, he speaks so quietly. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms as I face him.

“You’re sorry?” I shrug, not really seeing his blame. “Why? It’s not your doing.”

I return my gaze to the chaos below us. I watch as people with office jobs travel about. I wonder if they’ve heard of me? I wonder if they like me or think I’m a stuck up actress? I shouldn’t care what people think, but it’s easier said than done. When millions watch TSL every week, it’s hard to ignore the wondering.

“If I hadn’t walked you to the car none of this would be happening,” Colson reasons guiltily.

I shake my head, finding humor in the situation now. The paparazzi can make nothing into a months long romance. A brief conversation outside a restaurant and suddenly we’re meeting each other’s families.

“We were only walking to a car. How could either of us have predicted the amount of attention that would come of us walking?” I justify, not to ease his mind, but my own.

My flicker over to the tv, I examine the slideshow of us. Examining the photos I realize it wasn’t all in my head, the way in which Colson was gazing at me is a tad bit gawk-like. Images of us walking to the car while I’m answering the paparazzi’s questions depict Colson glancing at me with what seems to be such admiration. A picture of when Cara calls for Colson comes up and I’m stunned by how we look. Even I appear to be in awe of him in return. It’s evident Cara is speaking yet neither of us react. We were so caught up within on another.

“I have one question!” I blurt out suddenly with my arms crossed I walk back over to the table. Just one and then I wish to put all of today’s events to rest.” Colson perks up and hums for me to continue. I point over to the photos on the screen “why did you look at me the way you did?”

Turning his head, he reviews the photos blankly and I wait anxiously for some sort of reason. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way,” he disregards my accusations.

I chuckle, amused by his horrible way of lying. “Lies!”

He’s thrown off by my reaction and I storm over to the TV screen to point it out to him.

“It’s clear as day to the press, the public and now me included. You’re clearly lost in some kind of thought! You were there, so was I and our friends! Say all the lies you want but you’ll never convince anyone.”

His jaw clenches and he avoids my gaze. He leans back in his chair, staring out the windows. “Colson,” I sigh, slowly approaching the table. “Maybe the truth could help the lies disappear! If we’re honest then maybe the press will leave us alone!”

He shakes his head low, letting out a brief laugh. “I highly doubt that.”

I have a thousand questions but I’m aware none will go answered. He’s a lost cause. I’m in this alone I guess. Turning my back to him I return to my position by the window. Observing the worker bees swarming around the spaces below. The sound of Colson’s chair rolling back comes from behind me but I don’t even shift. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his figure in the reflection of the window beside me. My attention remains outside. He won’t give me the time of day so why should I treat him any better?

“You wanna know why I looked at you the way I did?” His presence hovers of me and he feels like a wall surrounding me.

“Please,” I mutter a subtle beg.

“I... I had this imagine of you in my head, pre-judgements. You’re supposed to be America’s Sweetheart, Little Miss Perfect! You told me you had been working for this for years, had drive and trails.” He confesses. “You’re not what I expected... It caught me by surprise is all.”

My eyebrows furrow close, “So you thought I was just some pretty face, goody-two-shoes, ditz? If it’s because my image, my past, you said so yourself it doesn’t matter!”

“No, no, that’s not it!” he runs his hand through his hair nervously.

Narrowing my eyes, I press further. “Why then?”

The door swings open and I straighten up before forcing a warm smile to my face. I step back from Colson before the person ever appears in the doorframe. One of Stephanie employees informs us that we’re free to go. Steph doesn’t want to keep me here all day and since I’m allowed to go Colson’s publicist is releasing him. I clasp my hand together, walking over to fetch my purse.

“Thank you so much!” I gush. “Have a good day and please tell Stephanie “thank you!””

The young intern eats up my pleasant expressions. “You too Miss Voss! Will do!”

The young woman shuts the door behind her and I return to the state I was in. Expressionless, I gather my belongings and Colson does the same. Checking my phone for any missed emails or calls I can tell he’s staring me down.

“Does it ever get tiring?” His tone is light, but I can hear the ounce of mockery beneath the surface.

My attention is locked on my phone as text after text pops up from Penelope. She’s more likely than not has seen all the articles and Twitter posts. I should call her and explain.

“Y/N!” Colson shout pulls my from my thoughts.

“Huh? Does it ever get tiring?” I restate his question back to him. “What exactly are we talking about?”

I slide my purse over my shoulder while stepping over to the door, leaving Colson behind. That is until he follows me.

“Your whole act.” He forces a fake smile and tosses imaginary hair over his shoulder. “The “happy go-lucky goody goody All-American girl?””

I scoff, eyeing him up and down. “You’re ridiculous. It’s not an act.”

I swing open the meeting room door, eager to leave here. My heels clink against the white shiny tiles on my walk to the elevators. After hitting the down button, I call up Blake now that I have some time to kill. She’s my oldest friend, I’m sure she sees right through all of the tabloids and is only checking in.

“Calling your boyfriend?” Colson mutters over my shoulder and I quickly move away.

“Don’t have one,” I answer plainly, waiting for Penelope to pick up.

He smirks and props himself up against the wall beside the elevator doors. I side eye him, all he does is smile all the time and he calls me out for acting so happy all the time.

“Can’t you find anyone else to annoy?”

He grins proudly, “sure I could. None would as entertaining as you though.”

“Geez,” I mumble under my breath.

I pace outside the elevators as I wait for one to arrive and for Penelope to answer. Classic of her to text me non-stop but not to answer when I call her back. The elevator doors open and I step inside, ready to get out of here. I hit the ground floor and Colson strolls in lazily not rushed at all. He checks the button and doesn’t add any. The doors shut then silence sits flat in the small space with us. My phone buzzes continuously, I check the name at the top of the screen.

“Frickin’ frackin’!” I clench my teeth together in a growl.

Colson’s eyes widen at my sudden explosion. Closing my eyes, I exhale to calm myself then bring the phone up to my ear. Smiling helps to fake enjoyment when talking to someone on the phone. Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking I’m not miserable during discussions.

“Finn!” I greet. “What’s new?”

My southern accent surfaces. I flip the switch whenever I speak to my family or friends back in South Carolina. I can’t have them thinking I’m not the same Y/N from Charleston. Colson eyes me with his eyebrows raised, surprised by my sudden transition. He makes fun of me in a whisper for my fake enthusiastic voice. I wack him on the arm and it only encourages him more.

“Hi ya Y/N, uh so ya prolly already know butcha face is everywhere along with this MGK fella...” Finn’s voice falters at the end.

I sigh and press my forehead to the wall. Finn asks me if any of what he has read is true and I instantly deny.

My tone goes timid, “who all knows?”

“Just us, Odelle, Greyson and Myself,” he assures.

A sense of relief rushes over me. I turn back around and Colson sends me a sympathetic look, it shocks me. Going from mockery to sympathy from him has my entire mood shifting.

“What ‘bout Momma or Daddy?” I ask, keeping eye contact with Colson.

“Nah, at least I don’t think they do,” Finn guesses. “I’m not entirely sure. Greyson is sayin’ they don’t. He’s the only one that’s home at the moment.”

“Heavens to Betsy,” I exhale deeply, looking up to the heavens. “Let’s hope to the high heavens they don’t. Thank you Finn.”

I go to hang up but he says one last thing. Bringing my phone back up to my ear I reply. “Sorry, missed that.”

My brother becomes stern on the other side, “do you and this guy spend tons of time together?”

I shift uncomfortably, preparing myself for the older brother advice I already see coming. “From time to time but I promise, we’re just friends.”

There’s a pause on his end, an unbearable pause. “I trust you Y/N,” Finn finally speaks. “It’s him I don’t trust. He’s not the best sort of guy. Ya’ll aint right for one another.”

I hope Colson can’t hear any of what Finn is saying. To keep him from becoming suspicious, I keep my replies indifferent. “Sure thing. Uh, talk ya later Finn.”

“Bye, talk to you soon.”

We hang up and I slip my phone into my purse.

Colson leans back onto the railing next to me. “Who was that?”

“My older brother, kinda overbearing,” I laugh nervously then bite my lip. My accent begins to subside again.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Colson remarks.

A faint smile appears across my lips thinking of my brothers. “I have two actually and an older sister. The order is Finn, Odelle, me then Greyson.”

Colson returns a kind and gentle smile. “That must’ve been nice to grow up with so many siblings.”

“It was.” I nod as memories flash across my mind. “Finn and Odelle were grouped together and so was me and Greyson since our age gaps are less.”

As we pass each level on the elevator there is a “ding.” Facing toward the doors again, I absentmindedly watch the numbers go down as we pass the levels. My mind wanders to the many memories I’ve made with my brothers and sister.

“Finn is about Sam’s age, so he likes to believe he’s almost a co-parent for me and Grey,” I describe with a pleased expression. “He’s the total opposite of Odelle.”

Colson genuinely shows interest, “how is she?”

“She’s a total wild card! We all joke that it’s every other kid. Finn and I are the rule followers. He was student body president, quarterback of the football team and still managed to graduate with honors. I’m nowhere near him on the perfect child spectrum but I’m supposed to be “America’s Sweetheart.” My parents eat that up. Then there’s Odelle, she’s the total opposite of Finn. My parents had to beg her to improve her grades so she could graduate. I remember being twelve, it was the middle of the night when I got up to get a drink. I went downstairs and saw her sneaking out of the backdoor. She made me promise not to tell our parents. I haven’t talked about it until today. There were days she’d fake being sick just to ditch school with her friends. By her senior year nothing had changed. She ended up graduating but my parents forced her to go to a college close to home so they could keep an eye on her. Her antics continued the entire time I was in high school. College for her was a playground. For some reason, I envied her. I still do. I suppose it’s because no one expects anything from her. She messes up, well, that’s Odelle for you. She causes trouble, just another day. For me, my parents have me up on a peddle stool. By the time I turned sixteen people out here started taking notice of me. When I reached seventeen the title of “America’s Sweetheart” popped up and from then on, I was longer a teenager. I had a role to play and an image to uphold. I could never make mistakes like Odelle. I have to be “perfect” constantly. Sometimes I feel like a doll, plastic. None of it is real.”

The bell rings for the floor. I comprehend the words escaping my mouth and snap back to reality. I revealed so much about myself while I was in that daze, private facts about myself that I’ve never spoken of before.

Straightening up and adjust my dress, I apologize. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what came over me.” The doors slide open and I step out. “Good to see you Colson,” I rush out a farewell before speed walking towards the exit.

I mentally slap myself for all I confessed. If only Nicole found out, my head would be on a stick. My life, my background, every aspect of my being is supposed to be flawless. An All-American girl from South Carolina with a wholesome up brining is who I’m supposed to be. If word gets out that I’m not so perfect then… then I would be finished. My hand digs for my keys in my purse.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Colson jogs up next to me then steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“Colson, please....” I practically plead in a mutter, stepping around him.

He wraps his hand around my wrist, stopping me. “Let me buy you a drink!”

Workers around us walk around in multiple directions like zombies. I wonder if they’re taking notice. Hesitant, I narrow my gaze at me. The reason we’re in this mess is because we were seen with one another.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I admit and release myself from his grip.

I only make it a few feet before he’s in front of me again.

“Fine, no to a drink! How about we go get some coffee? Or tea? If you prefer tea!”

His chest rises and falls rapidly, his desperation is evident. The reason behind is desperation is still unknown to me, along with the reason he looked at me the way he did last night. Who is this mysterious man who stands before me? So many questions I wish to ask but I can’t get passed his eyes. Puddles of crystal blue settle on a white canvas. Confused beyond belief, for a reason unbeknownst to me, I accept. Could be my curiosity is getting the best of me.

“Coffee it is,” I give in to his request.

He grins ear to ear and steps to the side so we can leave side by side. “Unless of course you prefer we get tea!” he suggests, sounding a tad nervous.

Honestly I like both drinks but I prefer coffee. He holds the door for me and the bright sunlight of California weather strikes me.

“Nah, I normally drink a cold brew with a shot of espresso,” I describe.

He winces and pretends to gag. “Ew! That sounds horrible!”

“It gives you a boost in the morning! Nice and strong!” I laugh.

“You’re nasty!” He waves his hands in disgust.

“Eh, you’ve called me worse,” I laugh, unfazed by his insult.

He chuckles, “you’re not wrong.”

Our laughing dies down a little as we stroll over to the Starbucks. I peer up at him with a side eye. When our eyes meet we begin laughing again uncontrollably.

___________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @Thysagclub @hockeybabe87

#mgk smut #mgk imagine #mgk fanfic #mgk #mgk aesthetic #machine gun kelly #colson baker #colson #machine gun kelly fanfic #imagine #fanfic

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cardentist · 3 years

Text

I haven’t been in the star trek fandom for very long (I’ve only just started binging the series in the last couple months), so it’s been pretty surprising to find out just how negative the perception of the reboot movies are.

this isn’t coming from the perspective of someone who grew up with the series, so it hit different for me than it might for people with a different relationship to TOS, but I thought it was genuinely clever and Respectful with how it was handled.

To quote leonard nimoy: “Well the alternative timeline gives them license to escape from canon concerns. I can’t see people saying ‘they shouldn’t do that because…’ or ‘that doesn’t tie in to such and such’ because it is a different time and place. Am I right about that?” [Link]

the entire Premise is that the original series happened as it was presented in TOS, but an event late in Spock’s life caused the creation of a parallel universe in which everyone’s lives were significantly altered through two key changes to the timeline. this gives them the freedom to Both revel in fanservice And explore different facets of the characters and their relationships.

the destruction of vulcan Vastly impacts the characters and the plot moving forward, and its a detail that a lot of people take issue with. but the emotional impact of sarek admitting Directly to spock that there is value in his humanity, that his feelings Aren’t wrong, that sarek married amanda because he Loved her cannot be understated. you can read all of these things into sarek as he was in the original series, but he Never had an open conversation about these things with spock. this creates a Believable and Rewarding change in their relationship, where we get to see a different facet of them Because of the changes made. and that’s exactly the appeal. showing us pieces of these characters that we never got in TOS that are nevertheless undeniably Them.

everyone is Different yes, but they’re also fundamentally the same people at their core and that matters.

kirk’s personality obviously takes the biggest change, with him experiencing trauma at a young age, losing his father, and having an implied abusive father figure after that point. he has a harsher personality in reaction to harsher conditions, he’s spikier and harder to love. but he’s also still fundamentally a Good person whose willing to risk everything to help people. he still has what made kirk prime a good captain and a good friend.

I’m not gonna say that it’s the most nuanced story in the world, but it explores a version of kirk that was born from even Less fortunate circumstances than kirk prime, exploring a kirk brimming with potential who learned to bite back after he was kicked down. exploring those themes of trauma and loss, of insecurity and growth, and coming to the conclusion that Fundamentally He Is Capable Of Good isn’t a Bad thing. you don’t have to like it, but his growth into a better person is The Point. they deepened his flaws (all of which were present in a less exaggerated form in TOS) To Show That Growth.

and then of course there’s his relationship with spock.

people are totally justified in not liking that they had a rough start to their relationship, I usually don’t like to see that kind of thing in reboots or hollywood adaptations either, but the way people talk about it is just unfair.

Yes kirk and spock and bones have a very strong relationship in TOS, they also already know each other by the time the show starts. to look at them having to learn to get to know and trust each other when they first meet and say that it’s Bad because they were already full on ride or die for each other in the og series is silly. TOS kirk and spock had to meet and fall in love with each other too, it didn’t just happen over night kings.

secondly, the entire point of the first movie is that Even With reality itself being altered to pull them apart they are fundamentally compatible people that are Bound to each other. they meet each other on bad terms because of circumstances outside of their control, and yet they’re still pulled into each other’s orbit and find the other slotting into place next to them as if they always belonged. one of the first things that spock prime says in the movie is “I am and always will be your friend,” spock and jim are Meant for each other and the movie goes out of its way to explain that. which is what makes it so Weird to see people complaining about how they don’t like each other.

it’s a Different relationship, but it’s absolutely no less steeped in yearning or queer subtext.

speaking of queer subtext ! some people are Very unhappy with spock’s relationship with uhura.

first thing I wanna say is that making the argument that they’re doing anything that the original series hasn’t done is just, completely untrue. kirk has fallen in love with more girls in the og series than he knew what to do with, leonard nimoy was a heartthrob in his time (and he deserves it, awooga) and spock reflects that ! Spock usually turns the women who come onto him down (or when he doesn’t it’s because a plant has literally altered his mind), but there are exceptions to even that. all of three of the main boys have plenty of romance subplots, it happens. if that takes the possibility of them being queer off the table for you (which it shouldn’t, m-spec people exist) then I’m sorry to say that TOS is not exempt.

now, I can understand why Specifically This Relationship could rub people the wrong way or being disappointed that they didn’t outright depict kirk and spock as having a relationship (if not in the first movie then in the following ones after they’ve gotten to know each other), but even in that context the way I’ve seen people talk about it comes off as insensitive.

no, the relationship did not come out of nowhere. they considered having spock and uhura date each other in the original show (and you can see signs of this in the earlier episodes, where uhura very obviously flirts with him and they spend time together in their down time) before they decided against it, and spock was originally going to kiss uhura until shatner insisted that he wanted to do it (because it was the first interracial kiss on tv). [Link 1, Link 2, Link 3]

nichelle nichols was asked about this exact thing (spock and uhura’s relationship in the movie), you can read the interview in full here [Link] but I’d like to highlight this paragraph in particular:

“Now, go back to my participation in Star Trek as Uhura and Leonard (Nimoy) as Spock. There was always a connection between Uhura and Spock. It was the early 60’s, so you couldn’t do what you can do now, but if you will remember, Uhura related to Spock. When she saw the captain lost in space out there in her mirror, it was Spock who consoled her when she went screaming out of her room. When Spock needed an expert to help save the ship, you remember that Uhura put something together and related back to him the famous words, “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m afraid.” And Uhura was the only one who could do a spoof on Spock. Remember the song (in “Charlie X”)? Those were the hints, as far as I’m concerned.”

the film makers looked at the fact there were Hints for uhura and spock, that they were Interested in exploring an interracial couple for the first time (both before and immediately after interracial couples won the right to legally get married) but Couldn’t because of the circumstances of the times and decided to Make that depiction. you don’t have to Like their relationship just because of that fact, but it’s Incredibly reductive to play down it’s significance as just a No Homo cop out. explicitly queer relationships are not the only progressive or culturally important relationships in fiction.

moreover, if you can’t imagine polyamory in the communist utopian future that’s on you.

moreover, this perception that this was a soulless cash grab is just, unfounded.

leonard nimoy returned to the role as spock for the first time in 16 years (since 1991) and this was Entirely because of the respect they had for nimoy, spock as a character, and the franchise as a whole.

Lets look at some quotes from nimoy in interviews regarding the film:

Leonard Nimoy: When I first read the script (...) I immediately contacted J.J. and said “I think it is terrific…I think you guys have done a wonderful job. There is still work to be done, but it is very clear that you and your writers know what you are doing and you know how to do this movie and know what it should be about….and I am very interested.” Then as time went by we worked things out with Paramount, but the most important things were J.J. and the script. (...) I am very pleased about that and I am very comfortable with where this is going. I think the writers have done a terrific job. They have a real sense of the characters and the heart of Star Trek and what it is really all about.

(...)

TrekMovie.com: Now in the case of the new movie you have been retired from acting for years. What was it about this one that made you want to act again and go through the make up again? What was it that made you say ‘I really want to do this?’

Leonard Nimoy: You are right, this is a special situation. First it is Star Trek and so I have to pay attention. I owe that to Star Trek. Second place is that it is J.J. Abrams who I think very highly of, he is a very talented guy. Then came the script and it was very clear that I could make a contribution here. The Spock character that I am playing, the original Spock character, is essential and important to the script. So on the basis of those three elements it was easy to make the decision. So those three things: Star Trek, J.J. Abrams, and an interesting Spock role.

[Link]

Praising the cast playing younger versions of characters from the original 1960s TV series, he [Leonard Nimoy] said: “Let me take the opportunity to say this. Everybody at this table [the cast] are very, very talented and intelligent people.”

“They found their own way to bring that talent and intelligence to this movie, and I think it shows. (...) When Karl Urban introduced himself as Leonard McCoy and shook hands with Chris Pine, I burst into tears. That performance of his is so moving, so touching and so powerful as Doctor McCoy, that I think D. Kelley would be smiling, and maybe in tears as well.”

“The makers of this film reawakened the passion in me that I had when we made the original film and series. I was put back in touch with what I cared about and liked about Star Trek, and why I enjoyed being involved with Star Trek. So, it was an easy way to come on home.”

“[In this Star Trek] they said things and showed me things, and demonstrated the sensibility that I felt very comfortable with, and I think that shows in the movie. I like it.”

[Link 1, Link 2]

again, you don’t have to like it just because leonard nimoy did, you don’t have to Agree. but the idea that nobody working on the film Cared is provably false. near everyone working on the project was already a fan of the series or were excited to be involved and did their homework. it’s genuinely a Miracle just how much of a labor of love this was, and in my opinion you can feel that through the movie itself. I’d highly recommend looking into interviews and behind the scenes details about the movies. they had a respect not just for the source material, but for leonard nimoy as a person.

there’s definitely more I Could say about this, but it’s 4 am now so I’m gonna shelve it jklfdsa

that said! it’s Fine to not like the movie, not everything is going to be suited to everyone’s taste, but the specific criticisms I’ve seen feel very off base

#star trek #kirk #spock #uhura #nichelle nichols #leonard nimoy #star trek aos #aos #star trek tos #tos #meta #long post #hello followers I write essays about star trek now

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xiaomoxu · 3 years

Text

Lucien - Mind’s Quest: Arriving With The Crowd

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

Please beware of roller-coaster emotions from this. A sweet moment yet has a deep meaning between them, is ready to serve you~

*) I put [...] on my thought about some scene.

Translations under the cut~

Part 1

??: Lucien, MC, we met again.

On the way when Lucien and I get off from work, suddenly a familiar voice came from behind us.

We spontaneously turned around and saw our neighbor, Mr. Zhang, carrying a supermarket bag and beckoning to us with a smile.

Mr. Zhang: Recently, I saw you two commuting to and from get off from work together every day. It's a really good relationship.

MC: Mr. Zhang also helps your wife buy vegetables every day.

Mr. Zhang: My wife’s legs are not good, so I will run more errands. It’s not the same as when you are young.

Mr. Zhang: I remember MC said last time that you were going on a business trip, when would you leave?

MC: I will leave tomorrow.

Mr. Zhang: Oh my, it's no wonder! Then I won't bother you, so I'll leave you two.

Lucien: Okay, I understand, please be careful Mr. Zhang.

Mr. Zhang smiled and looked at us again, then strode away.

I received an outdoor reality show a while ago. I planned to go to the countryside of a neighboring province to shoot for three months. I heard that the signal over there is not very good and it is inconvenient to communicate.

In order to make up for the time when the two places were about to be separated, Lucien and I made an appointment to spare some time every day before departure.

Almost all the spare time was used by us when commuting to and from get off work, visiting the supermarket, and buying breakfast.

Even if it is somewhat "inseparable" in the eyes of others, I still feel that this time is far from enough.

When I was thinking about it, Lucien gently squeezed my hand, recalling my thoughts.

Lucien: How do you plan to spend the last night at home?

MC: Speaking of it, it might be a bit boring...

MC: In fact, my luggage hasn't been packed yet, so I'm always worried about what's left.

Lucien: Let me check it with you later.

Lucien: There is a distance between the shooting location and the urban area, so you still need to prepare well.

MC: Okay.

I looked up at the bright evening sky, and couldn't help but move closer to Lucien, entangled his arm.

MC: But the weather is so good today, let's go slowly.

Lucien: Alright.

As he said that, Lucien slowed down, we dragged a long shadow and walked slowly towards home.

Early the next morning, Lucien escorted me to the station.

After taking the luggage out of the trunk, I stood still and did not move.

Standing at the gate of the station, the dismay of parting suddenly surged up.

Lucien turned around with a sense and helped me stroke the messy hair in my ear.

Lucien: This time it's my turn to help you take care of the green plants. Don't worry, I will take care of them.

Lucien: And for you, if you need my help over there, remember to tell me.

MC: Okay.

I opened my mouth, but couldn't say anything more. Lucien sighed lightly and pulled me into his arms.

Lucien: It's ok, the words you want to say, I understand.

Lucien patted my back lightly, as if he wanted me to feel at ease.

I gradually calmed down, feeling the breath in his arms a little greedily, wanting to save a strength for myself.

None of us spoke, just let time pass quietly.

A radio alert sounded vaguely in the station, and the restraint on my waist was loosened. I also let go of my hand and raised a smile to Lucien.

MC: Phew... Recharge completed.

Lucien: It seems that the big producer is ready.

MC: Um! I will work hard, strive to go and return early.

Lucien: Okay, I'll wait for you to come back.

I waved to Lucien, pulled up the luggage and walked into the station.

After passing the security check and walking far away, I couldn't help but look back.

At the entrance of the station people were coming and going. I don't know who they are going to go to or who they have just said goodbye.

Lucien still stood on the spot, looking at me from a distance.

A train came into the station, and the crowd quickly engulfed him.

But knowing that someone is watching, has filled me with confidence.

Exclusive Radio

Lucien: The question just now is almost like this.

Lucien: After you go back, you can adjust your opening report based on today's discussion.

Lucien: Do you have any other questions?

Student A&B: There's none.

Lucien: Okay, that's all for today.

Student A: Huh? There is another hot search on the news.

Student A: "The villagers broke the news that the film crew was polluting the environment...This film crew seems to belong to the company "Miracle Finders", right?

Student B: Yes, I saw their propaganda a few days ago, saying that they are going to the neighboring province to shoot a reality show.

Student A: Local villagers said that they dumped sewage into the river and also posted photos.

Student B: This is too unqualified, right? Do you want to destroy people's environment in the name of local customs?

Lucien: ....

Student A: Wait a minute, Professor Lucien is the consultant of "Miracle Finders" .....

Student B: It's, Professor Lucien, we didn't have other meaning...

Lucien: It doesn't matter. It's a matter of fact. If the film crew really makes a mistake, it is normal to be criticized.

Lucien: But I want to know, did the photos on the hot search actually capture the scene where the show crew dumped sewage?

Student A: Not really, only pictures of the river.

Lucien: Then we better not draw conclusions so quickly.

Lucien: There is no objective fact of "the program group dumped sewage" in this photo, only the result of "the river water was polluted."

Lucien: People can stand from different angles and use this result to infer many different stories.

Lucien: There is only one true fact.

Lucien: How do you prove it, are the stories you heard were the facts?

Student A: I.....

Student B: Look, the program group issued a statement to refute the rumors!

Student B: They also did a picture comparison. It turns out that the picture on the hot search is a picture several years ago.

Student A: Huh? Then someone maliciously spread the rumors.

Student A: ... Sorry Professor Lucien, we were a little impulsive just now.

Lucien: There is no need to apologize to me, it is essentially the fault of the rumors.

Lucien: However, since the thesis is about to start the topic, you can use this matter to remind everyone.

Lucien: Whether you are doing research or encountering social events, don't be too impatient. Set your mind down and analyze the logic carefully.

Lucien: I will also look at your logic loopholes during the defense. So, I hope you will prepare it well.

Student A: Good professor, we must prepare carefully!

Lucien: Well, let's go back.

(Lucien left the room and close the door behind)

Lucien: Huh? No phone, no news...

Lucien: Forget it.

Part 2 - Main Story

I settled down at the shooting location and confirmed some shooting-related matters. It was too late when I got back to my senses.

--The whole day's hard work hits my body, but the unfamiliar environment makes me sleepless.

I unlocked the phone and saw that the conversation with Lucien was still staying in the report after arriving.

Suddenly I wanted to talk to him, so I raised my arm to find the signal direction and knocked on what I saw today.

MC: "Today, I was dealing with emergencies, the network was unstable, and the scene was very chaotic..."

MC: "But fortunately, I saw a very interesting book on the way, specially introduce words with special meaning."

MC: "For example, this one."

I posted a photo of a page in the book with the Greek word "pathos" on it.

T/N: The Greek word pathos means "suffering," "experience," or "emotion." It was borrowed into English in the 16th century, and for English speakers, the term usually refers to the emotions produced by tragedy or a depiction of tragedy. "Pathos" has quite a few kin in English. A "pathetic" sight moves us to pity.

It means the sense of yearning and longing for those who are absent.

I waited for a while, but Lucien didn't reply, he should have fallen asleep.

I confidently continued to type on the keyboard and talked out all kinds of experiences in one mind.

MC: "The villagers are very kind and hospitable and helped us a lot."

MC: "The air is also very fresh, and a faint fragrance of green grass can be smelled everywhere."

MC: "But there are so many bugs! Thanks to you reminding me to wear long pants yesterday."

I told everything from morning to night, and when I was about to say something, my phone suddenly shook.

A video call invitation appears on the screen.

I sat up, scratching my hair twice before press the answer button.

MC: You haven't slept yet...

Lucien: Well, just after finishing the report, I received your self-thinking message.

Lucien: I thought I couldn't wait for your good night today, but I didn't expect to receive a "big gift before going to bed".

MC: I don't know if you're still awake, is it bothering you?

Lucien: How come, I didn't feel disturbed.

Lucien: It should be said that I am very happy to see you share these experiences, in every detail.

Lucien: It seems that I am also experiencing these with you.

Lucien picked up the phone on the side and swiped, and smiled in a good mood.

Lucien: The book you took is also very interesting. The author has developed such a rich interpretation just around the word "pathos".

Lucien: This is the first time I know what this word means in Greek.

MC: Does this word exist in other languages?

Lucien: Well, I remember that this word is often used in English to convey the appeal of artistic works. It also means "sympathy" and "suffering".

MC: When you say this, you feel that there is a subtle connection between these two interpretations.

MC: Missing or longing for someone you care about can be considered "suffering", right?

Lucien: Maybe it is true.

Lucien: When the person you care about is not around, everything about her becomes more conspicuous, which makes people more aware of the fact that she is not around.

Lucien: Just like today.

Seeing that I was a little confused, Lucien pointed to his mobile phone.

Lucien: I saw some people on the Internet saying that the villagers at the filming location are somewhat dissatisfied with you.

Lucien: Is this the emergency you dealt with?

MC: ....I thought my actions for solving the problem were fast enough to keep you from discovering it.

Lucien: I thought you would talk to me about this sooner, so I have been waiting for your news.

I was stunned for a moment, and then quickly smiled at Lucien.

MC: Don't worry, those on the Internet are all rumors, I’ve already solved it.

MC: In fact, we get along very well, and we promised to let the guests help a family draw portraits tomorrow.

Lucien: Well, then I won't worry about it.

Lucien paused, and suddenly moved closer to the camera, seeming to want to see something clearly.

Lucien: Why you keep supporting your arm like that, is it not comfortable?

MC: No, because the signal at this spot is better...

MC: The accommodation conditions here are actually pretty good, and the rooms are clean and tidy.

MC: Except for the occasional signal, you have to looking for the angle yourself.

Lucien: I can imagine how you would look for a signal while holding your phone.

MC: You're teasing me again!

Lucien: Alright, I won't teasing you. It seems that you can sleep well tonight.

I lay down again holding my phone and patted the hard bed underneath.

MC: Newcomers may still have to get used to the bed for a few days.

Lucien: In this case, I will lie down with you.

Lucien turned off the top light and walked to the bed to lie down. I followed and turned off the ceiling lamp, leaving only the small lamp beside the bed.

The screen went dark, and Lucien's face also looked a little fuzzy.

We lie on each other's sides, looking at the screen, as if we were lying face to face.

Lucien kept looking at me. I was a little embarrassed by him, and my eyes began to drift around.

Lucien: Where are you looking at?

MC: ... I can't sleep, I want to divert my attention.

Lucien: It's better to close your eyes first, and I'll help you.

Seeing Lucien's encouraging gaze, I closed my eyes, and his low voice quickly came from my ears.

Lucien: Next, can you tell me what sound you can hear over there?

I pricked my ears and listened carefully, perhaps because my vision was blocked, my hearing became extremely sensitive.

MC: There is the barking of puppies and the roar of the machine.

MC: The alarm bell of a car rang...It was a bit noisy.

I subconsciously covered my head with a quilt, remembering that Lucien was still watching, and then secretly revealed half of my face.

Lucien: I seem to forget to remind you to bring earplugs.

Lucien: If you bear with it, the owner should wake up soon.

As soon as Lucien's voice fell, the noise outside the window stopped, and the world returned to silence.

Lucien: Is it quiet?

MC: Well, it feels quieter now than before...

We were silent in unison. Maybe the night is getting darker, and there is no other sound in my ears for a long time.

I don't know how long it took before I vaguely caught a tiny movement.

There are small ups and downs in the steady, it is Lucien's breathing.

I brought the phone closer, and subconsciously let my breathing keep up with his rhythm, as if we were in the same space.

My mind slowly calmed down, and my consciousness gradually drifted away in this sudden connection.

MC: Lucien...

Lucien: Hm?

MC: Good-

Did I say "good night"? It was too late to confirm, and my mind was gradually empty.

I do seem to be a little sleepy.

I don't know how long it took, Lucien's breathing gradually became even longer.

The girl on the screen is asleep, but she seems to have not released the phone yet.

Lucien sighed almost inaudibly, then curled the corners of his mouth again.

She was right, "The yearning and longing for those who are not around" does make people suffer.

Lucien gently stroked the sleeping face on the screen with his fingers, and spoke softly.

Lucien: Good night.

Part 2 - Memory Silhouette

Half a month has passed since the shooting. On weekend mornings, I was putting on makeup while chatting with Lucien.

MC: Professor Lucien has worked hard, and accompany me to get up early on weekends.

Lucien: It's okay, I just came back from buying breakfast.

MC: Huh? You finally remember to have breakfast on time!

Lucien: I heard that the spring limited soup dumplings from the Huxin Road store will be off the market in a few days.

Lucien: Thinking you might like it, I bought it.

Lucien: However, I forgot that you were not at home and accidentally bought two portions.

Lucien fiddled with the bag on the table and sighed softly.

I touched my flat stomach and sighed.

MC: I knew I should have eaten it again before I left, now I have to wait until next year...

Lucien: Then wait until next spring, we will buy it the first day it goes on sale.

MC: Okay! Then if you want to eat more today, just eat one for me.

Seeing Lucien nodded with a smile, I just patted the sunscreen on my face and closed my makeup bag.

Lucien: How do you feel that your dressing time has become shorter today?

Lucien: It usually takes at least half an hour before you come knock on my door.

I hummed twice, leaned close to the phone and tapped on the screen.

MC: Professor Lucien may not be aware of it. Make-up takes time and it takes time to remove makeup.

MC: At days, moving bricks are precious as moving gold, and I’m sleepy at night, so I don’t want to bother to remove my makeup.

MC: And now, it’s more important to be able to concentrate on talking with you for a while.

Lucien looked at me, smiling at the corners of his eyes and eyebrows.

Lucien: It seems that I was too accustomed to this intention before, and I will cooperate more with your time in the future.

Lucien: Speaking of this, I found a lipstick at home yesterday, which should have been dropped by you.

Lucien got up and disappeared from the screen for a while, and when he returned, he had the lipstick in his hand.

He opened the lid and showed it to me. I recognized that this was the one I carried with me before. The paste had already bottomed out.

MC: Actually this one is about to run out, just throw it away for me.

Lucien: Do you like this color very much?

MC: Yes, it's very versatile.

Lucien thoughtfully twirled out the remaining lipstick. I looked at him with a curious expression and couldn't help but smile.

MC: Lucien, in your eyes, are the various lipstick look similar?

Lucien: Just looking at it, it's a bit difficult to tell.

Lucien: But after you apply it, I can see the difference.

[Not me crying over this conversation ㅠㅠ]

MC: Unexpectedly, Professor Lucien is also have a talent for such things...

Lucien: This is not my talent.

Lucien: You make these colors look clearer and more beautiful.

[UGLY SOBBING]

It sounds like a joke, but his tone is very sincere.

I was a little embarrassed to look away, and my heart was filled with sweetness because of his attention.

MC: Do you have any favorite color?

Lucien: I have. What I see now is the one I like the most.

My cheeks were slightly hot, and I was about to say something when the phone alarm rang suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

Lucien: Is it time for assembly?

MC: Mmhm, how can time pass so fast...

MC: Then I'll go out first.

Lucien: Be careful on the road and take a break.

Lucien waved his hand as I did, and the sunlight shining in the room reflected his smile more clearly.

After finishing the call, I also subconsciously glanced out the window.

Although we can't spend this weekend together, but fortunately, we still enjoy the same sunshine.

Part 3 - Main Story

It has been a month since the shooting started, and the daytime sunshine gradually warmed up.

Three poles on this day, we set up the machine under the sun, but a guest did not wait.

Perhaps because of the sweltering weather, the guests were not very enthusiastic about their work, and even began to find all kinds of excuses to try "ask for leave".

Physical discomfort, temporary travel, family affairs... all sorts of things like

The reasons for yes and no are endless, which makes us very embarrassed.

I communicated privately a few times, hoping that they would cooperate with the work, but within a few days, the old drama will repeat itself.

Today was another morning without anyone. My colleagues took turns to the residence to persuade. I also made a few calls to the guests’ agents.

Fortunately, after some coordination, the guests finally came forward, and we started the machine in the afternoon.

But in this state, the shooting process becomes a bit difficult. The venue is not cool enough, there are too many retakes caused by the wear, and I don't like interactive sessions...

Little things that did not constitute a problem have become problems. I tried my best to explain from them, so that my colleagues and guests did not quarrel.

In order to ensure the quality, I temporarily decided to stop work ahead of schedule after the key parts were taken.

I took advantage of the break time and prepared to go to the nearby supermarket to buy some supplies to comfort everyone.

Along the way, the villagers who came home passed by, and the sound of conversation and the roar of tricycles filled the evening breeze.

Although they looked tired, everyone was happy on the way home.

I suddenly remembered the days when I left work with Lucien before I left. At that time, I also had the same happiness as them. It was expectation and stability.

I don't know what Lucien is doing now. Did he leave work on time? Did he eat well? I took out my cell phone, but found that there was no signal.

I turned off the screen, walked silently to the entrance of the village, and suddenly a bright light shrouded my head.

The street light was on, and the warm light spread on the road outside the village. In front of the platform not far away, a bus full of passengers was pitting in.

Looking at the scene in front of me, I seemed to be gently pushed by a force and changed the direction of advancement.

I got on that bus.

Clerk: Welcome!

MC: ....

Originally, I just wanted to take the bus to relax, but I didn't expect to sit at the terminal --- the railway station accidentally.

The power that clamored in my heart drove me to buy a ticket for the fastest return to Loveland City.

When I walked out of the Loveland City Railway Station, it was raining heavily outside.

I watched the pedestrians passing by in the rain, and the reason for escaping gradually returned to my brain.

I walked into a nearby 24-hour store and sat down. I was looking at the night view outside the window and combing my thoughts. My phone suddenly vibrated, and Lucien's messages popped out.

Lucien: "Are you done?"

MC: "Well, it's finished."

I thought about it and added another sentence.

MC: "it's raining outside."

Lucien: "It's a coincidence, it's raining in Loveland City."

Listening to the patter of rain, I calmed down a bit and dialed the video call.

Lucien quickly picked it up. With the light on, I saw the familiar room behind him at a glance, which seemed to be my living room.

MC: Lucien, are you at my house?

Lucien: Mmhm, the rain is a bit heavy, let me move the green plants on your balcony.

Lucien: Are you still outside?

MC: I'll go out to buy something for everyone, and I'll go back when the rain drops a bit.

Lucien: It's already a bit late, so be careful when you go back.

MC: Don't worry, I am fully equipped.

As I talked, I nodded vigorously, as if to prove something, and as if I just wanted to convince myself.

Under the bright light, Lucien's dark circles were obvious, and his face looked a little pale.

There was a bit of sourness in my heart, I subconsciously moved closer to the screen.

MC: Lucien, what have you been up to lately?

Lucien: There is a study at the end, and the things at hand are a bit trivial.

MC: Is it very hard? You look a little haggard.

Lucien: In order to avoid blemishes as much as possible, it is indeed a bit harder.

Lucien: But it will be over soon, don't worry about me.

Lucien: But you seem to be very busy lately. Have you encountered any difficulties?

MC: There is a little problem...but fortunately, it is not difficult to solve.

I hesitated for a moment, thinking that I secretly ran back to Loveland City like this, I always felt a little embarrassed, so I changed the subject.

I glanced at the room behind him, and suddenly caught a bright color near the window sill.

MC: Lucien, what's on the windowsill...?

Lucien: Recently, a new flower shop opened near the research institute. There are many type of flowers and they are very beautiful.

Lucien: So I bought some privately and put them in your house.

MC: Well, I want to see it too.

Lucien switched the camera to the rear, and I saw a row of flowers on the windowsill, almost in full bloom.

It can be seen that these flowers are taken care of by Lucien very well, but the colors are all gorgeous, and they are inevitably dazzling when they are placed together.

always feel that this is not in line with Lucien's style, so I spoke with some doubts.

MC: Lucien, did you choose this all?

Lucien: I just chose the type of flowers, and the clerk helped to match the others.

Lucien: What's the matter?

MC: Nothing... they are bloomed very well.

MC: Is it time-consuming to raise so much?

Lucien: It does take time to change the water and pruning, but once in a while, it can be regarded as a kind of rest.

Lucien: Sometimes it is a little more comfortable to do things according to your own will, right?

I vaguely think that he meant something. Did he find out what he sneaked back into? It shouldn't be so obvious....

Just as I was thinking about how to respond to him, Lucien turned back to the camera and met my gaze.

Lucien: What about you, is there anything you really want to do now?

MC: Yes, I really want to go home, and immediately sleep for three days and three nights, and then go to eat hot pot and soup dumplings.

MC: I also want to watch movies and dramas instead of the ones I made myself.

Lucien: I thought that at least one of these wishes was related to me.

MC: Of course it is related to you. These are all things I want to do with you.

MC: It’s just that sometimes I don’t dare to think too much. It would be a little sad if I remember that you are not around.

I lowered my eyes, on the opposite side, Lucien did not speak for a while. Only after a while, I heard his voice again.

Lucien: In fact, every time the flowers bloom and wither, I also get annoyed.

Lucien: It would be nice if I could see it with you. If I raise it with you, it might be able to bloom longer.

Lucien: I am used to witnessing these moments with you. When you are not around, it is really uncomfortable.

I looked at his slightly bent eyes, and the bottom of my heart loosened for a moment, like a seed coming out of the soil.

MC: Then next time there are flowers blooming, please send me a picture.

MC: Although the network on my side may be delayed, it can be considered as a witness with you.

The smile on Lucien's lips deepened, and he nodded gently.

Customers opened the door one after another, and I glanced out the window. The rain had stopped.

Worried about revealing my position, I hurriedly moved closer to my phone.

MC: Lucien, the rain stopped on my side, I'm going to catch the last bus first.

MC: Let's continue tomorrow, go to bed early. Good night!

Lucien: ... Alright, pay attention to safety. Good night.

As soon as Lucien's voice fell, I hung up the phone in a hurry, and quickly bought a ticket to the neighboring province.

The sky was still gloomy, but my mood faintly became lighter.

One-sided thoughts may be troubles, but if this trouble gets a response, it turns into some kind of power.

The feeling of wanting to escape disappears. Between parting and reunion, I will run as soon as possible.

Because I know he is waiting for me.

Part 4 - Main Story

The filming work has been going on for two months, and the sense of summer has gradually become clearer.

It wasn't until the evening when the heat subsided. Colleagues walked to the restaurant one after another. I took out my mobile phone and walked to a place where there was a signal, and left a message to Lucien.

MC: "I have finished work, is Professor Lucien still busy?"

The words "The other party is typing" appeared at the top of the dialog box, but soon stopped and changed to a video call invitation.

I hurriedly picked it up and Lucien's figure appeared on the screen. He was wearing a white coat and seemed to be still in the laboratory.

Lucien: Sorry, I may have to work overtime today.

Lucien: When checking the data, we found some problems, and we need to "rescue" them.

MC: Is it serious?

Lucien: Fortunately, it's just a bit time-consuming to process.

Lucien rubbed his eyebrows, and my heart tightened suddenly as I looked at his tired face.

MC: I remember that you were finishing up last month, is it almost to the deadline?

Lucien: It's less than a week.

Lucien: This time I brought a newcomer, and there are a lot of things that need to be run-in in the details.

MC: They might feel a little nervous, it's the first time they take on an important job.

MC: But with Professor Lucien, everyone will be able to find the way out smoothly.

Lucien smiled and moved a little closer to the screen.

Lucien: I find that in your eyes, "Professor Lucien" always seems to be very powerful.

MC: Not only "Professor Lucien", in my eyes, Lucien is omnipotent.

MC: As the saying goes, those who can do more work, but you can't force yourself too much.

MC: Maybe you can’t rest assured now, but I have a tip to make you feel better.

Lucien: Oh? I really need it. Please tell me your advice, teacher MC.

MC: When it's really difficult, just give yourself a wish.

MC: In this way, every day we are moving towards that final wish and we have overcome many difficulties without realizing it.

MC: For example, arrange a vacation or travel, as long as it is something you like to do!

Lucien looked at me for a while and suddenly laughed.

Lucien: Thank you, teacher MC. I understand.

Lucien: In fact, this wish has always existed, maybe I'm just too impatient.

MC: What is Professor Lucien's wish?

Lucien blinked at me and skipped the question.

Lucien: If I remember correctly, your filming is also coming to an end.

MC: Well, the part of the reality show has basically been filmed, and I will go to the neighboring city next week to make up some empty shots.

MC: It is estimated that I will be able to go home soon to appreciate the flowers and plants that Professor Lucien has taken care of!

Lucien stretched his brows, and the smile in his eyes became deeper.

Lucien: Well, they are also looking forward to seeing you.

The neighboring city’s framing plan is based on the theme of "going home from work", for which the on-site director summoned a group of extras.

However, it rained suddenly before the filming started, so we had to buy an umbrella temporarily and distribute it to everyone.

I looked at the monitor and thinking about the moving line. I saw the light of the traffic light blurred in the rain, like a wet oil painting.

Considering that the theme of this reality show happened to be related to painting, my heart moved and decided to change the shooting plan.

MC: Please use an artistic way to express the theme, we will do slow-motion processing.

Think of this block as the background of the painting. You can use the props to simulate the people in the painting.

The actors seemed to be very interested in this suggestion and tried them.

MC: Let's try it first.

The camera moved slowly on the slide, the light slid between the transparent umbrellas, and the crowd moved closer to the camera and dispersed.

I seemed to catch a glimpse of a somewhat familiar figure in an instant, but in a daze, the figure disappeared again.

...How could Lucien be here? I must have saw it wrong

I blinked vigorously, forcing myself to concentrate.

Some of the people in this "painting" singing, some strode across the puddle, and some pulled out a stack of papers from their bags and threw them into the sky.

The night scene oscillated in these chaotic lines, and seemed to be lit by the warm atmosphere.

A piece of A4 paper flicked in front of the camera. After a brief loss of focus, the familiar figure suddenly appeared in the line of sight.

MC: ....?

I refocused, but found that the scene in front of me was not an illusion.

A narrow gap was opened between the crowds, and I saw Lucien holding the umbrella, walking towards me.

He didn't make any movements, but just followed the crowd forward.

The light-colored coat was stained with some rain, which did not weaken his refined temperament at all.

This is the "Professor Lucien" I am most familiar with. He walks in the crowd calmly, as if he just got off work.

The splendor in front of me instantly lost its sound, and my eyes could only follow him closely.

But why is he here, why did he join the group acting team?

Doubts and surprises are intertwined in my heart at the same time, I really want to run to him immediately. However, at present, the only thing I can do is to look up from behind the camera.

It seemed that I had been waiting for a long time, and the moment I looked at him, I looked into his full of emotions-eyes.

In the next second, he took out a familiar lipstick from his pocket, twisted his fingers apart, and slowly started writing on the inside of the umbrella.

Perhaps it was because the people around him were acting in an exaggerated manner, and his movements did not appear abrupt.

I subconsciously stared at his umbrella and slowly pieced together what he had written.

P-A-T-H-O-S, is the word we talked about.

The continuous rain water glides along the umbrella surface as if soaking it.

There is a faint bitterness in my heart, it is the smell of yearning and longing.

After a brief gaze, Lucien passed the equipment and stopped beside me, as if accidentally covering the umbrella over my head.

I came back to my senses and refocused my attention on the shooting until the group actors had all gone.

MC: Cut!

MC: Xiao Fu, tell the actors, just follow the feeling they just did, and take another shot later.

My colleague walked to the side to greet the actors. Seeing the atmosphere loosen, I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face the person behind me.

I took a straight step forward, squeezed his sleeve, and poked his cheek again. Lucien leaned down cooperatively, and let me touch him.

MC: Am I really dreaming...

Lucien: Do you need to check again?

The smiling eyes are so near. As if bewitched by the light, I opened my arms to embrace him.

The faint fragrance of green grass enveloped my breath, and I couldn't help but move closer.

MC: Lucien...

Lucien: Mmhm, It's me.

He was holding an umbrella in one hand, and he held me tightly on my shoulder with the other. I didn't care if there were other people beside me, and buried my face in his arms.

A real touch came from under my palm, and the tips of his hair flicked gently in my ears, itchy.

At this moment, without the barrier of the screen, even if I bury my head in his arms, I can clearly outline his appearance.

Lucien gently patted me on the back. I don't know how long it took before I heard his voice.

Lucien: Is it confirmed now?

MC: Hm.… It is indeed our Professor Lucien who has replaced the actors.

MC: But why are you here?

Lucien: Now I'm here, will it affect your work?

MC: No way, you just provided a super awesome picture.

I remembered the busy work he said before, and subconsciously stroked the back of his hand.

MC: Is your research over?

Lucien: It's just ended today.

MC: Why didn't you take a break first...

MC: It’s a few hours’ drive from Loveland City to here.

Lucien: Compared to the past few months, a few hours is nothing.

Lucien: Besides, someone suggested before that I should give myself a wish to face the problems.

Lucien: Now that the problems have been resolved, I will come to realize this wish.

I looked into his eyes and suddenly understood what his "wish" was that he didn't tell me that day.

MC: But we have to go back to the countryside after the filming today. Is such a short time enough?

Lucien: Not enough.

Lucien: But the moment I saw you, I still thought it was worth it.

Lucien: I just don't know.. Does this suit the "going home" theme required by the big producer?

I looked at his questioning expression, and couldn't help but gently squeezed his face again.

MC: Totally suitable.

MC: Lucien, welcome back.

Part 4 - Memory Silhouette

After a brief reunion, Lucien will return to Loveland City.

After the filming was over, my colleagues took the equipment back first, Lucien and I got on the bus to the station.

There were not many people on the bus at this time. We sat side by side by the window, and the neon lights circling outside the window passed by.

This short reunion still made me a little dazed. I stared at Lucien's reflection on the car window, as if I couldn't see enough.

The bus stopped for one stop, opening and closing the gap between the doors, Lucien turned around, with a helpless smile on the corners of his lips.

Lucien: Suddenly holding it so tightly, are you afraid that I will run away?

He raised our tangled hands, and I realized that I had just accidentally used some strength.

I let go hastily, and reluctantly hooked his finger again.

MC: It's a bit, after all, "sweet dreams" are always too short.

Lucien: If this is your dream, don't worry, it won't slip away easily.

Lucien gently folded his fingers and clasped my fingers.

Lucien: Speaking of it, I'm very curious, why didn't you choose the Loveland City for your shooting this time?

I paused and thought about the words before I spoke.

MC: Loveland City is a bit far away from us, and suitable shooting sites have not been approved for various reasons.

MC: But there is another reason that I don’t want to shoot in Loveland City.

Lucien: Hm?

I paused and thought about the words before I spoke.

MC: At first, everyone was back at their home. If they were in Loveland City, they might not even want to work.

MC: Especially knowing that I'm in the same city as you, I can't help but feel sorrowful.

Lucien smiled and stroked the back of my hand lightly.

MC: But how do I remember that you seem to have sneaked back once halfway through?

MC: Huh?! How did you know..

I looked up at him in surprise, but Lucien smiled and clenched my hand, pulling me closer.

Lucien: When you called me that day, it was in the store, right?

Lucien: There is an activity label on the shelf behind you, and I saw the words Loveland City.

Lucien: Moreover, the call that day was particularly smooth. Normally, your signal in the village should not be so good.

MC: ... Then why didn't you break through me?

Lucien: You look a little shaken, I have been waiting for you to tell me why.

Lucien: But you didn't, and you comforted me in turn.

Lucien: So I guess, at that time, you didn't really want to escape, you were just pissing off, or wanted to calm down, right?

The stop announcement of the bus intervened in our conversation, and after a short stop, we continued to move forward.

The night scene outside the window quickly receded, and only Lucien's smiling eyes stayed on me.

I secretly sighed in my heart. Maybe it is because he always looks at me like this that he can always guess any of my thoughts.

MC: I should have guessed it a long time ago, nothing can be hidden from you...

MC: But thanks to you chatting with me at that time, I didn't really waver.

MC: Knowing that someone was waiting for me to go home, it instantly became full of energy.

Lucien: Silly, you have worked very hard.

Lucien: Compared with the past, you already become stronger and braver.

Lucien: Instead, I need to get strength from you now.

I looked at his slightly frowning eyebrows, and there was a burst of soreness in my heart, and I leaned over to embrace his waist.

MC: Can this give you a strength?

Lucien: Hmm... But maybe you have to hug a little tighter.

MC: You are shameless.

With that said, I moved my body and moved closer to him.

A muffled chuckle came from the top of his head, and the temperature between his arms soon covered his back. I leaned on his shoulder and suddenly thought of something.

MC: By the way Lucien, who told you about the filming location?

Lucien: If I told you, would you blame that person?

MC: Of course, it's not right to disclose the itinerary privately

MC: But criticism belongs to criticism. Since it was revealed to you, I will still personally thank this person

I reluctantly rubbed his chin and buried my face in his shoulder.

I felt Lucien resting lightly on the top of my head, and a slight vibration followed his voice.

Lucien: I'll tell you when your work is all over.

Lucien: Now there are only two weeks left, and we can enter the countdown to go home.

Lucien: I hope that when you see me again, you can still be as happy as you are today.

MC: I will definitely be happier than today.

The bus kept entering and leaving the station, muting our tail sound in the slightly bumpy carriage.

I counting in my mind, there are three stops, two stops, one stop left. I'm going to say goodbye to him again.

However, the rainy season is about to pass.

I think it will be a clear sky on the day of reunion again.

Part 5 - Main Story

The three-month shooting is finally over.

Before the hottest day came, I quickly packed my luggage and returned to Loveland City.

As soon as I got out of the station, I immediately looked around, looking for Lucien's figure.

The moment I dragged the box in the crowd, a familiar call suddenly came from my ear.

??: MC!

I turned my head and saw Lucien standing outside the security line of the station, his eyes gazed deeply on me.

MC: Lucien!

MC: Excuse me, please let me-

I dragged my luggage around the crowd, and ran towards him. Seeing Lucien, I rushing towards him, I simply let go of the luggage and jumped into his arms.

Lucien: .... Be careful.

Lucien warned me like this, but his arm had already hugged me tightly.

Rarely, he didn't lean over to hug me and carried almost all of my weight in his arms. I had to stand on tiptoe so I could barely touch the ground.

There was a slight suffocation in the chest, and none of us willing to let go.

MC: Lucien... I miss you so much.

Lucien: I miss you too.

A low breathing sound came from my ear, Lucien let go of me a little bit, his fingertips slid from the top of my head to my shoulders, followed by his eyes inch by inch.

Lucien: Our big producer seems to be tanned, tired and thin.

MC: Really?

I also raised my hand and stroked Lucien's cheek, rubbing it with affection.

MC: Our Professor Lucien has also lost a lot.

MC: It seems that I have to eat more delicious supplements these days!

Lucien smiled and nodded, and pulled the two luggage behind me.

Lucien: Then let's go home.

MC: Well, this time I really "go home"!

After returning to my home after a long absence, looking at the familiar furnishings, I finally let go of the tension that had been in the past few days.

Tired from the long journey, I quickly changed my clothes, walked into the room and opened the curtains, and at a glance I saw the flowers that Lucien kept on the windowsill.

It is a new variety that has never been seen before, and it is still in full bloom.

Lucien walked up to me and was slightly taken aback at the scene on the balcony.

Lucien: ... It seems to be brighter than I imagine.

MC: Imagine?

[DO YOU WANT ME TO CUT 1 KILOGRAM OF ONIONS??!]

Lucien's eyes flickered. I thought maybe he didn't know much about flower arrangements, so I volunteered to pick up an empty vase.

MC: It’s okay, just a little adjustment.

I picked a few flowers of similar color from a few bunches of flowers, trimmed them briefly, and put them in the empty vase again.

MC: Look, is this better?

Lucien: It looks a lot better.

Lucien: Before, I just followed the maintenance instructions to raise it, but it turned out that it needed to be adjusted like this.

MC: The most important thing is to keep the flowers well, I just add a little ornamental.

Lucien: In order to make flowers and people happy, it is best for us to raise them together.

Lucien: If you raise it next time, can you please help me arrange the flowers?

MC: Of course, it's on me!

I raised my head confidently, Lucien rubbed my hair with a smile.

Lucien: In return, I have a small gift for you.

Lucien turned around, picked up a small box from the coffee table and handed it to me, opened the box and there was a lipstick inside. The authentic rose red reminds me of the handwriting printed on the transparent umbrella on that rainy night.

Lucien: Choosing lipstick for the first time, I don't know if you like it.

MC: It looks so beautiful...Why would you think of buying lipstick?

Lucien: I just think this one should suit you well.

Lucien: Want to try it?

MC: Yes!

I picked up the mirror on the table and was about to turn the mouth red, and suddenly met Lucien's gaze from the mirror.

MC: You, why are you looking at me all the time.

Lucien: Can't I watch it?

MC: Not really, just a little embarrassed...

I turned around while I was talking, only to find that he was still looking at me in good time.

MC: .... Lucien!

He was amused by the way I was bulging. He seemed to think a little bit, and came over to take the mirror from my hand.

Lucien: Sorry, it's been a long time since I looked at you like this, I really don't want to miss any of your expressions.

Lucien: But if you are not used to it, I have a compromise.

Lucien: I'll help you put it on, how about it?

This fresh proposal made my eyes bright, and I quickly turned to face him.

MC: Okay, I won’t miss any of Professor Lucien’s special offer!

MC: But did you even know this...

Lucien: I'm not that good, and I may need you to be a "guinea pig."

Lucien: But I will try to be careful.

MC: It doesn't matter, Professor Lucien's "fault tolerance" here is very high.

Lucien: It seems that this is a special treatment for me.

Lucien: Come, sit by my side.

Lucien took me to sit on the sofa, tucked the hair beside my face behind my ears, and then focused on the lipstick.

He opened the lid skillfully, and squeezed it unnaturally

His gaze rested on my lips for a while, and I opened my mouth slightly in cooperation before he made the first stroke.

The moisturizing paste pushed against the lower lip, Lucien lifted my chin unconsciously, extending the color stroke by stroke.

His movements were very light, I was a little itchy, and was blocked by him, so I couldn't move, so I kept blinking and looking around.

Lucien seemed to have not noticed my struggle, so he put on lipstick slowly and didn't forget to look around, as if admiring his own work.

Lucien: This color really suits you, and looks better than I imagine.

MC: Is it "imagination" again?

Lucien: ,After all, it is a gift for you. Since I bought it, I have been imagining the way you put it on.

Lucien: Now, I can finally see it with my own eyes.

Lucien's fingertips gently rubbed along the edge of my lower lip, as if tracing its shape.

I caught a glimpse of the flowers behind him, and my heart trembled slightly.

I don't know how Lucien faced his longing, maybe it was a short daze interspersed with his busy work, maybe it was a "wish" in my heart...

I didn't deliberately think about it, but I felt that it was like a shadow.

I gently held his face and looked at him seriously.

MC: Lucien, now I am back.

MC: Whatever you think of or what you want me to do, you can tell me directly.

MC: After all, during this time, I have also accumulated a lot of wishes about you...

MC: Just as we "compensate" each other!

Lucien looked at me in silence for a while, and finally raised the corners of his mouth.

Lucien: Since I got my wish just now, now it's your turn.

Lucien: What do you want me to "compensate" for you?

I spread out Lucien's hands, seeing that there was still the lipstick that he had just rubbed off on his fingers.

I suddenly realized that it is precisely because there is no barrier at the moment that we can directly leave marks on each other.

And the long separation that I experienced made me want to be more greedy at this moment, leaving more proof of existence around each other.

I followed my heart to stood up and kissed his lips.

Lucien: ...

The newly applied lipstick rubbed against the corners of his lips, like a small blooming flower, dotted on his fair skin.

This color is really beautiful.

MC: If I want this kind of compensation... is that okay?

Lucien met my gaze, raised his hand and rubbed the corner of his lips, and suddenly laughed.

Lucien: Of course you can.

He hugged me up and let me sit on his lap.

Sunlight spreads on us through the gauze curtain, adding warmth to the narrow distance.

Lucien: I thought before that you might need to adjust to your original life for a while... Lucien: Now it seems that I am the one who has been worrying too much.

I took the lipstick from his hand and made a few letters out of thin air.

MC: Remember the "pathos" we talked about before?

Lucien: Yes, I remember.

MC: Later, I read the book carefully and found that there are actually two kinds of misses described by this word.

Not only do I miss the other person when we are separated, but even if the other person is right in front of me, I still long for him.

MC: So, although we are not in the same place in the past few months...

MC: But to me, I never felt separated from you.

Lucien raised his head slightly and looked at me, his eyes seemed to be filled with shards of light.

Lucien: So, even if I am a little greedy now, is it okay?

MC: It’s okay.

Lucien: I not only want to see unique colors, but I also want to leave colors related to me in it.

Lucien: Is it okay?

He took my shoulders and seemed to draw something on my shoulders with his fingertips.

I lowered my head and looked over. The little red he rubbed with his fingertips just now was drawing another "flower" on my shoulder.

MC: Of course, after all... this color suits me very well.

Lucien stared at me deeply, his gaze slowly sliding from my eyes to my lips.

In the drenched sunlight, he held my face and dropped a feather-like kiss on my lips. The soft touch feels like a kind of gentle comfort, which makes me fall into it bit by bit.

I closed my eyes and felt him pull my chin slightly. I opened my mouth slightly, and his breath quickly swept through my perception.

The jaw was clamped by him, and a slight pain melted into the hot breath, which made the kiss look a little eager.

I put my arms around the back of his neck and responded carefully, the pain quickly dissipated, and he asked for it even more with burning sensation.

The faint scent of rouge faints between the lips, I don't know if it comes from the lipstick on his lips or mine.

The shoulders were gradually clasped by him, and the cold air from the air conditioner came in through his fingers and was warmed by his palm.

Every skin that touches him is conveying pleasant sensations. I keep my eyes closed, but my eyes are full of brilliance.

The wet and rainy season that I have just spent alone is all illuminated by the snuggle at this time.

I don't know how long it took, the temperature on my lips slowly faded, I opened my eyes and saw a mess of rose red on Lucien's lips.

MC: Lucien, the lipstick--

Lucien: It's all spent.

We reached out to each other at the same time, trying to wipe off the fainted lipstick. But no matter how you rub it, it will leave a shallow trace.

We looked at each other in embarrassment and couldn't help laughing together.

MC: What to do.. am I ugly now?

Lucien: No, it's cute.

The eyes of the person in front of me are like water, and the sunlight seems to have washed away the complexities in these eyes, showing a bit of pure satisfaction.

Lucien embraced me again and stroked my hot cheek patiently.

Lucien: Any other wishes?

MC: There are a lot more, I feel I can't finish it for several days.

Lucien: It doesn't matter, I will be with you for many days.

Lucien: Those missing seasons, let us make up for it together

Notes from me: I can’t helped but giggling and crying over this date. The writer really gave us how Lucien’s feelings towards MC. They will loved each other for sure, with any circumstances ahead them. My wish just, please give them a happy moment like flying kite maybe? Anyway, thanks for visiting my blog and always reading Lucien’s date, and give him love~ xoxo

#mlqc cn #mlqc #mlqc lucien #lucien #mlqc translations

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karlnapity · 3 years

Text

I Hope You Die in a Raging Inferno of Pain

AO3 link

TWs: panic attacks, depicted death

Jack Manifold is ambushed on a Tuesday. He’s at the hotel, the front desk where he always is, and he barely has time to register what’s happening before Tubbo is dragging him outside. He sputters, tries to wrench his arm from where Tubbo’s holding it, but he wasn’t strong even before he died, and he’s got no chance.

“Tubbo- what-” He’s quieted by the other’s shushing.

“This is an intervention. You’re going to therapy.” Tubbo’s voice is gleeful, but Jack can parse the underlying serious tones.

He scowls even as he trips over his feet as he’s pulled along. “I don’t need therapy.”

Tubbo laughs at that one. “Bossman, I think we could all use a little, and Puffy’s offering it, so you’re going.”

“Puffy hates me.” He scoffs.

Tubbo huffs. “Give it a shot, at least?”

And Jack can’t refuse him.

Jack hates everything about this.

He rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans. He didn’t even know he could still sweat.

Puffy sits across from him, tapping her foot in a rhythm that makes him want to pull his hair out. She hasn’t said anything yet, seemingly waiting for him to start the conversation, and he’d rather die again than actually talk to her.

He doesn’t want therapy. He doesn’t need someone else to tell him he’s a horrible person. He can do that himself.

Eventually, after what seems like years, Puffy clears her throat, and his attention snaps to her. She leans forward, slightly, on her chair.

“So Tubbo brought you in?” She asks. He nods, once. He doesn’t look her in the eye. He really wants to leave.

“Well,” she starts with a rueful smile. “I wouldn’t usually say it’s good to drag people to therapy against their will, but this is the fucking Dream SMP. Sometimes I think it’d be good if we just had one big group session.”

He grunts something that would be a laugh in more comfortable circumstances. “Someone would die.”

She chuckles at that. “You’re probably right. Maybe it’s for the best.”

After a few moments of awkward silence she leans forward again. “So, tell me about you. Do you think you need therapy?”

He feels very small all of a sudden. He shuffles his feet. His legs ache. Everything aches.

“Dunno,” he mutters.

“I need a little more than that, Jack,” she coaxes.

“I… guess?” He wants to melt into the floor, maybe fall back into hell again if it means escaping this conversa

(Fuck)

(No)

(No no no no no no no no)

(He can’t think that he doesn’t want to think about that why did he think that joke was)

“Jack?”

There’s a bit of pain in his arms and he realizes he’s clutching them, fingernails digging in painfully. He doesn’t want to loosen his grasp.

He starts as he notices Puffy next to him. He’s not sure when she moved. She tugs his hands away gently, and he relaxes reluctantly.

She catches his eye. “What were you thinking about?”

The question is asked so gently, and he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, eyes darting to the floor to avoid the way they water just slightly.

“You know I died?” He asks, and his voice feels raspy like his lungs are still full of fire

(Don’t think that)

He tries to draw his arms back in but she holds tight on his wrists.

“What life are you on?”

He barks a laugh at that, something pitiful and angry and he tries not to yell.

“Four,” he croaks, and her expression twists.

“That’s not funny, Jack,” she reprimands, and he pulls himself away, stands to face away from her even as his vision swims.

“Well I’m not fucking joking, am I?”

(Wilbur told him once when it was still L’Manburg that Jack was like a small animal, or some fucking metaphor like that, all puffed up and angry to cover up that he was scared, and Jack told him they were in a fucking war, and he was allowed to be scared, and Wilbur laughed and told him ‘There he goes,’ and Jack thought it was funny.)

(This was, of course, before Wilbur killed him.)

Puffy seems to have realized he was serious, and he hears her stand behind him. She doesn’t ask the normal question, which is good, because he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“How did you lose them?”

He turns to her. She looks so out of her depth he almost wants to laugh.

“Wilbur, Tommy, Techno.”

She sucks in a breath. After a moment she chokes out, “Tommy?”

He does laugh, then, and then there’s nothing but fire in his veins, on his skin, and it burns so much. “Yeah, your fucking precious kid? The one who can do no wrong?”

Puffy hasn’t even said anything, but he’s started, now.

(Tommy once compared him to a firecracker.)

“He fucking killed me. And no one knows I died to Techno, and no one cares about Wilbur, and no one has even acknowledged or even knows that I fucking went to hell, and no one cares and no one’s apologized and the only person who even cares about me is apparently fucking Wilbur and I think he was manipulating me anyways and-”

He chokes off in a scream, crumpling to a crouch, and after a second he feels Puffy’s arms around him. His skin still feels like it’s burning and he pushes her away desperately, fighting her the whole way down, but she holds tight.

He gets tired of both trying to push her away and choke in sobs and breathes he doesn’t need, eventually, and goes limp, letting her hug him. His breaths still as he calms and he feels her tense before she realizes it’s okay he’s not breathing.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, and that almost starts him up again. “I’m sorry I didn’t know, and I’m sorry you’ve felt alone, and I’m sorry that no one’s been here to help you. But we’ll get there.”

He clings to her, then. Some part of him tells him to stop embarrassing himself, to keep the facade, but it’s washed out by the utter relief.

Someone is listening to him. Someone knows what happened to him. Someone is paying attention to him and it’s not to laugh at him or to tell him he’s an asshole or to look down on him.

(Something feels a little bit wrong, in his chest. It feels cold.)

(His fire is flickering.)

Therapy isn’t fun, he learns quickly. It’s actually kind of hard.

After the initial ‘guess what, I died’ he finds he likes talking about his other issues much less. Puffy encourages him to spill, and she always listens, but after every word he fears she’ll laugh or look at him with disgust or fear.

But she takes everything with stride.

He needs to tell her about his death. His mouth feels dry. He can tell she’s waiting for him to start.

“So, um, dying,” he stammers. She nods.

“You don’t need to tell me about it if you don’t want to.”

“I do, though,” he snaps before he talks a breath like she taught him to.

(I don’t need to breathe, he says, and she balks for a minute before stammering an indignant You should try it anyways.)

“The final one- The one that killed me for real- Techno took an axe to my head on Doomsday. But I didn’t go to hell immediately, I guess? I just came back to life like normal, though things were weird, and it took a day for me to just. Fall through the ground?” He can feel it now, but he pushes it away. He just needs to get the words out.

“And I was just falling and falling and I saw Her and all I could think about was how I couldn’t die until I got revenge and I was so angry and then I just kept falling and then I was on the Prime Path again.” He twists his fingers in his lap. “And then I realized I was dead and I think I might be slowly falling apart like a fucking zombie and everything’s fucked up and the only thing keeping me alive- literally, I’m pretty sure- is how angry I am.”

He looks up to Puffy then. She gets this look on her face, sometimes, like she’s shocked and appalled and sad, which is kinda starting to become a recurrence in their sessions.

“What do you mean falling apart? Run me by your symptoms again?” She scribbles a few notes.

“Um.” He suddenly feels very aware of just how unnatural he is. He feels disgusting. “Can’t sleep, can’t eat. My senses are worse? It’s harder to hear and to feel and to see and stuff. And my body hurts a lot. Like, a lot.”

She nods. “Have you noticed anything that helps?”

He looks at the floor. He doesn’t want to say it.

“Jack?”

“Um.” He twists his fingers and they hurt. “When I’m angry?”

He takes a peek at her and she gestures for him to continue.

He had no idea so much therapy is just being encouraged to speak.

It does feel nice to be listened to.

“When I’m angry, it feels like this fire in my chest. It feels like I’m alive.” He sighs. “I think it’s what’s keeping me around.”

“Your anger?”

He nods. “When I was falling, all I could think about was how much I wanted to get them back. Techno and Tommy and everyone. I just wanted apologies.”

Puffy asks him if he wants to talk to Tommy. He really doesn’t, but she fixes him with a look and he can’t really say no.

That’s how he finds himself sitting across from Tommy in her office. Tommy is staring at the ground and Jack pretends to find something interesting in the wall.

“So, Jack, do you want to start?” Puffy asks. He sighs.

“No.”

“You tried to kill me,” Tommy starts, and the fire flares.

“You did kill me!” Tommy shrinks back, just a bit, but he doesn’t stop.

“I came to visit, because I was your fucking friend, and you just kept going on about how no one cared about you when I was right there and you shoved me into lava! Why the fuck do you think I wanted to kill you?”

He’s seething, but Tommy just looks confused.

“I killed you?” His voice is small. Jack doesn’t care.

“Do I actually fucking matter so little to you that you don’t even remember killing me?” His voice chokes and he shoots to his feet. He can hear Puffy call his name, but he’s already storming out.

He swipes furiously at his eyes as he crouches outside. He can’t cry anymore, which is more cruel than anything, but the sensation is still there.

“Jack?”

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” he’s saying before he even has the time to realize that he’s fucking crying in front of him. He bristles, but Tommy has crouched beside him.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy says, quieter than he should. Jack can barely hear him, and he’s not sure if it’s just his shitty hearing or what.

“I’m so fucking sorry I killed you, and I’m even more sorry I don’t remember. I- I wasn’t doing well then. At all. I’m still not. I did a lot of things I regret.” He sighs. “You don’t have to forgive me. You really don’t. But, um. If you ever want to talk to someone about being dead.”

Jack sighs, runs a hand over his head. “Yeah, but you came back to life the easy way.”

“Puffy told me you’re, like, actually dead?”

Jack holds out his hand and Tommy presses his fingers to his wrist, murmuring something in awe when he can’t find the pulse.

Jack feels something like affection and tries to push it down, but it’s too late.

Tommy’s fingers feel like ice. He gasps when something breaks in his chest, jerking his arm back. Tommy blinks.

He puts a hand to his chest. Something is wrong. He’s pretty sure Tommy is calling his name but he feels far away.

Everything is so cold. His teeth are chattering, he’s pretty sure. He shivers.

Something is happening, he’s being moved, but he can’t tell what’s happening. He jerks when he feels hands on his arms, on his back, but they hold tight.

He’s laid on his back. Someone touches his forehead, but he can hear murmuring after a minute. Their hands are like ice.

It takes a long time for him to start to come to. He’s rolled onto his side at some point. He feels drifty, like when he first came back from hell, and that fear is enough to startle him awake.

He’s on the couch in Puffy’s office. She’s sitting in her usual chair, but she stands when she sees him blinking at her.

“Are you okay?” She asks worriedly, crouching beside him and taking his hands. He jerks back at how cold she is.

“What happened?” He croaks.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know, Tommy said you just collapsed. We were so worried.”

Tommy was worried for him. He gasps again, clutching his chest. She helps him sit up, rubs his back as he recovers.

He knows what this is. He doesn’t want to admit it.

“Can you imagine,” he starts, chuckling bitterly. “Can you imagine therapy fucking killing you?”

His anger is fading, and in some cruel, sick sense of it all, it’s not a good thing, healing isn’t a good thing, and it’s so. Fucking. Unfair.

He tries to keep on with his life, tries to keep up with therapy, spends time with Tubbo, and Tommy sometimes, and Niki when he’s lucky, but in the back of his mind all he can think is how it will end, and it happens all too soon.

He wakes up one day and he can’t get up.

He’s so tired. He registers, dimly, that it’s not normal, but the fog in his brain leaves him unwilling to explore the idea.

It takes three days and a missed appointment for Puffy to come find him.

She stands over him, arms crossed, and chastises him.

She starts to worry when he doesn’t even shift.

There’s no pulse, no temperature to check, so all she can do is shake him, and after a few long moments he opens his eyes.

She exhales shakingly, pulls him close to her chest. “Oh my god, don’t scare me like that.”

He doesn’t quite have the energy to refute her, so he lets her hold him. His eyes slip closed again, and she shakes him.

“Tell me what’s going on?” She asks. She sounds so worried.

He’s not good at talking at the best of times, but he’s got to try. His mouth feels dry. He can’t even remember the last time anything passed his lips. He misses eating. He’s losing consciousness again.

“Tired,” is all he manages to murmur. She shifts him in her arms.

“I need a little more than that, Jack.” There’s something in her voice. “This isn’t normal for you. You told me you don’t sleep.”

“I don’t,” he tells her as indignantly as he can muster. He knows it’s not right, how he’s feeling, but he’s so tired that he can’t be arsed, and he whines when Puffy shakes him again.

“You need to stay awake, okay?”

He’s so cold. It feels like his limbs are frozen.

Puffy keeps murmuring, talking his ear off to try to distract him, try to keep his attention, and he tries to hold onto her words. They just slip through his grasp.

He’s falling.

No. This isn’t fair. None of this is fucking fair.

He doesn’t want revenge. He doesn’t want to hurt anymore. He doesn’t want to maim.

He wants to live. All he’s ever wanted is to live. All he’s ever wanted is safety and security and love.

And he’s fucking got it so this isn’t fair.

And the fire is lit.

Jack Manifold crawls out of hell on a Tuesday. He crawls out of hell because he’s a stubborn motherfucker. He crawls out of hell because he has friends, a therapist, and a way to move forward. He crawls out of hell because he has apologies to make and people to forgive and he can’t die before he finishes his argument with Tommy.

He crawls out of hell because life is unfair and terrible and awful, but he will be worse.

And there’s a hand extended. He grins and takes it. It’s warm.

#I'M SO PROUD OF THIS ONE PLEASE READ IT #based on the idea that jack's anger is the only thing keeping him alive #personal #jack manifold #jackmanifoldtv #captain puffy #captainpuffy #tubbo #tommyinnit #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt

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marvelmusing · 3 years

Text

Making Time

Mobius M Mobius x Reader

Part 2

My Masterlist

“1985, huh?” You say, looking up from the briefing Mobius has just handed you.

“Yeah, maybe we’ll spot a delorian?” He jokes, making a Back to the Future reference. You smile at him, remembering when you’d first mentioned the movie. You hadn’t been at the TVA long, to your knowledge.

You’re sat in one of the cafes, explaining something about the timeline to Casey, and you make an offhand reference to the movie. To which, Casey looks even more confused. You glance at Mobius, who’s been sat next to you, watching your teaching with a smile. You offer them both a small smile, at yet another reminder that you’re from somewhere very different from the rest of them.

“Neither of you have seen it have you?” Mobius shakes his head.

“Not a lot of chances for watching movies when dealing with the timeline. Should we get the chance, I’d love to.” It’s a few days later when you give him the chance.

“Honey, I’m home.” You hear Mobius call out, which brings a smile to your face. Whilst you had your own apartment, you much preferred staying with Mobius, like you did when you first arrived at the TVA. You hear him set down a pile of papers in the kitchen, before making his way into the lounge where you’re sat waiting for him. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s all this?”

“Back to the Future. I went through my file, and managed to find a version that I watched that was uninterrupted. Then I isolated it, and copied it onto one of those cassette reel things, so that it’ll play on your mini projector.” You pause, before adding, “I probably put too much effort into this but, I thought we could have what my time considers a movie night?”

“A movie night?” Your face falls slightly, feeling embarrassed by your suggestion.

“We don’t have to-“ you start. He shrugs off his jacket and settles down next to you.

“Did I not tell you I wanted to watch it, should I get the chance?”

“Well, yeah.” He gestures to the projector.

“Let’s get this show on a roll.” You grin at him, before quickly pressing play on the projector. Mobius leans an arm on the couch and pulls you to his side. “You finally have clearance to access to your file, and you use it to watch Back to the Future?”

“What else was I supposed to do with it?” You joke.

You and Mobius head to the cubicle where you left Loki this morning. You spot him wapping against the desk with a magazine.

“Training going well?” You ask him. He leans back in his chair, attempting to look casual.

“Yeah.”

“Is that my jet ski magazine?” Mobius asks him. “Put it down. Gear up. There's been an attack. Let's go.” He hands Loki the jacket he’s been carrying. You set the briefing down on the desk, and follow Mobius. Loki trails behind you. “Put it on.” Loki shrugs the jacket on, adjusting the collar before posing.

“Nice.” You tell him with a smile.

“Good. Yeah, smart.” Mobius says distractedly. You soon reach the Timedoors, where a small group of hunters have gathered to wait. B-15 opens up the briefing.

“C-20 and her team went dark shortly after they jumped into the 1985 branch. All signs point to another ambush. We've grabbed enough temporal aura to know it's our Loki Variant. But which kind of Loki, remains unknown.”

“They're the lesser kind, to be clear.” Loki specifies. B-15 sighs,

“Let me see the back of that jacket.” Loki does a small turn, showing the group the back of his jacket, where the bright orange letters reading VARIANT stand out. Everyone is the group shares a small smile. You’re glad you don’t have to wear one of those anymore.

“Very subtle. Well done.”

“I don't want anybody out there to forget what you are.”

“Oh, your only hope of capturing a murderer?”

“No. A cosmic mistake.”

“That's enough.” Mobius interrupts.

“Lovely.” You hear Loki murmur.

“Here's the deal.” Mobius begins. “When we get out on the branch, we're not just looking for a Time Criminal. We're looking for a Loki. A variation of this guy. A type we should all be very familiar with, because the TVA has pruned a lotta these guys, almost more than any other Variant.” He skims through a few of the Loki Variants that the TVA have caught before. “And no two are alike. Slight differences in appearances, or not so slight. Different powers, although, powers generally include: shapeshifting, illusion projection, and my favourite-”

“Duplication casting.” Loki interrupts

“Illusion projection.”

“No, they're two completely different powers.”

“How?” You ask him.

“Illusion-projection involves depicting a detailed image from outside oneself, which is perceptible in the external world, whereas duplication-casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance, which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure. But you already knew that.” He explains. You catch a glimpse of Mobius’s smirk before he says,

“Okay, take a breath. Noted. We're gonna break into two teams, including myself and Professor Loki.”

“Why?” A hunter stood beside you asks.

“Because whoever this Variant is, we haven't been able to find him. So let's bring in an expert.” Loki looks around at the group before adding a quiet,

“That's me.”

As the hunters prepare themselves, you hear Loki ask, “Do I get a weapon?” You laugh lightly,

“No chance.”

“Well, I'll have my magic back. Is no one concerned about that?”

“Of what?” Mobius asks.

“Me betraying you.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know that we’ll just catch you again.” You tell him.

“And how's betraying us gonna get you any closer to the Time-Keepers?” Mobius adds. Loki leans forward, his attention fixed on Mobius.

“An audience with the Time-Keepers is on the table?”

“Keep that focus.” Mobius tells him. The three of you follow the hunters through the Timedoor, and out into 1985 Wisconsin. Your group makes their way through the crowd of the Renaissance fair before entering a large tent. It’s dark inside, with only a few lanterns to light your path. You watch as B-15 bends down to grasp examine a helmet left abandoned on the floor.

“So he's taking hostages now?” She says, turning to Mobius.

“The Variant's never taken a hostage before.”

“Maybe he's upping his game.”

“Or he pruned her.” One of the hunters remarks, you frown at his callousness towards his colleague.

“A Loki couldn't have gotten the jump on C-20.”

“I think you underestimate, actually...” Loki begins.

“Fan out and search for her. And hurry up, we're at three units until red line.” B-15 orders. Mobius sets a hand on your arm, and the two of you head to the exit.

“Come on.” He says to Loki.

“Wait. If you leave this tent, you'll end up like them.” Mobius stops beside Loki.

“What do you see?”

“I see a scheme, and in that scheme, I see myself.” Loki begins to ramble about an old Asgardian saying.

“Two units. He is wasting our time.” B-15 interrupts.

“Okay. Come on, Loki, make a long story short.” Mobius encourages.

“We need to look for C-20.”

“That's exactly what the Variant wants you to do. It's a trap. He's waiting for you outside this tent.”

“Should I secure the reset charges?”

“No. He wants me. I'm the key to his plan. He knows that I'm stronger. And he rightly believes that together we can overthrow and rule the TVA. But that's not what I want. I have a new purpose. I'm a servant of the Sacred Timeline. And knowing what I now know about his tactics, I can deliver you the Variant, but I need assurances.” He says, looking to Mobius. You glance up at Mobius, frowning slightly. Surely he isn’t believing what Loki’s saying? His eyes catch yours and there’s a small twinkle in them. You hide your smile. Loki circles around Mobius.

“Yeah?” Mobius offers.

“Assurances that I won't be completely disintegrated the moment the job has been done.”

“Right.” Loki leans forward, before whispering,

“We'll need to speak to the Time-Keepers at once. They're in graver danger than we realized.”

“He's lying. Just playing games. There's no one out there.” Mobius calls out to the group.

“Reset the timeline.” B-15 orders.

“You had me for a second. My ears are sharp too.” He points at Loki’s chest. You follow Mobius out of the tent.

“Well that went well.” You remark, hearing Mobius sigh. He runs his hand over his face.

You’re tucking into your lunch when you spot Mobius. He picks out a drink and a salad before making his way over to you. You give him a small smile,

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“How did it go with Renslayer?” He sighs, leaning his head back, before getting comfortable in his seat.

“Well, our Loki hasn’t been deleted yet.”

“That’s good then?” You offer. He sighs,

“Yeah. Though he’s getting more and more talkative.”

“You did say he loves to talk. Where is he now?”

“I’ve left him with the archives, hopefully he’ll be reading for the next few days. Or at least long enough for me to finish lunch.” He begins to eat his salad. Just then, Loki scampers in looking like a manic puppy.

“I found something.” Mobius shakes his head, keeping his attention on his lunch,

“No, I said don’t bother me until you've read all the files.”

“I have.”

“Every file?”

“Yes.”

“Pertaining to the Variant?”

“The answer isn't in the files, it's on the timeline. He's hiding in apocalypses.”

“Which apocalypse?” You ask.

“Any time in history? There's, like, a million of 'em.” Mobius adds.

“Ragnarok. Are you familiar?”

“Yes. The destruction of Asgard and most of its people. I'm sorry.” Loki pauses looking down.

“Yes, very sad.” He immediately perks up again. “Anyway, it got me thinking. Nexus events happen when someone does something they're not supposed to do, right?”

“Well, it's a little more complicated, but, yeah.”

“Great. And then that thing they're not supposed to do, cascades into a whole range of other things that aren't supposed to happen.”

“And so on and so forth, until eventually, a new timeline branches. Yes?”

“Chaotic alterations of a predetermined outcome.”

“Exactly. So, let's just say...” He picks up the salad bowl from in front of Mobius.

“Mm-hm. What are you doing?”

“...your salad is Asgard in this scenario.” Loki continues.

“It's not Asgard, that's my lunch.” Mobius complains, the pouting clear in his voice. You lean forward, a hand on your chin to hide the smile at Mobius’s reaction.

“It's a metaphor. Just hang in there.”

“I want that salad.”

“And I could go down to Asgard before Ragnarok causes its complete destruction and I could do anything I wanted. I could, let's say, push the Hulk off the Rainbow Bridge.” He picks up a salt shaker and puts a large sprinkling of salt across Mobius’s salad.

“There he goes.” You say, feeling rather invested in this metaphor.

“The salt's Hulk?” Mobius asks, clearly not as enthusiastic as you.

“And I could also... Set fire to the palace.” He picks up a pepper pot and shakes the pepper across the salad.

“No, just stop. Don't set fire to the palace.”

“Okay? I can do whatever I want to do, and it would never matter. It wouldn't go against the dictates of the timeline because...” He sets down the shakers after nearly emptying them both. He heads to the table behind you. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, God!” Mobius sighs.

“You!” Recognising the voice you look up to see Casey looking very confused.

“Nice to see you. I just need this for a second. Thanks.” Loki picks up Casey’s carton of juice, before sitting back down at your table. “Because the apocalypse is coming. Ragnarok, Surtur will destroy Asgard no matter what I do.”

“No, don't do...” Mobius sighs as Loki empties the carton over the remains of the salad.

“There's the apocalypse.” You say with a sigh, offering Mobius your bag of chips.

“That's the apocalypse?” He asks, taking a handful of chips from you with a smile.

“Ragnarok obliterates the salt. Ragnarok. There it is.” Loki gestures to the ruined salad with a proud smile.

“What am I lookin' at?”

“Okay, it was a clumsy metaphor. But you see what I mean. It doesn't matter. It could be any apocalypse. It could be a tidal wave. It could be a meteor. It could be a volcano, a supernova. If everything and everyone around you is destined for imminent destruction, then nothing that I say or do will matter, because the timeline's not gonna branch. Hence, the Variant could be hiding in the apocalypse and do whatever he wants, and we wouldn't know!”

“Not bad.” You offer.

“Take me to a real apocalypse, to Ragnarok, I'll show you.” Mobius chuckles,

“Yeah. So you can run away back to your homeland? No.”

“No, I'm not going home. We can go anywhere.”

“I'm not taking you for a stroll along the promenade, much less an apocalypse.”

“Oh, Mobius, come on! What could possibly go wrong? We gotta properly test this theory.”

“Well, here's a fun theory. You lure me out into the field, and stab me in the back. And that's a theory I don't wanna test.”

“I'd never stab anyone in the back. That's such a boring form of betrayal.” He most definitely would stab someone in the back.

“Loki, I've studied almost every moment of your entire life. You've literally stabbed people in the back, like 50 times.”

“Well, I'd never do it again, because it got old.” You both laugh at this. Mobius looks at you, and you shrug.

“Might as well try it?” You offer. Mobius nods,

“Okay.”

“Okay, look, you don't trust me, you can trust one thing. I love to be right.” Loki adds. That certainly isn’t a lie.

Tagslist: @n0obmaster69 @mackycat11 @wibblywobblyjeremybearimy @boriqs @morganwilliams @greeneyedblondie44

If you’d like to be tagged just ask!!

#mobius m mobius x reader #mobius x reader #agent mobius #mobius #mobius m mobius #mobius loki #loki 2021 #tva loki #time variance authority #marvel au #marvel x reader

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multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer · 3 years

Text

The War Within (Anakin x Reader)

Author’s Note: I hope this is what you wanted, anon! I had a lot of fun writing this & all the angst in it :) let me know if you guys have any other requests or feedback for me! You’re all amazing <3

Requested?: Yes, by anon- “hi dear, could i request an oneshot where the reader was anakin's wife before he turned into vader,and when we turned (he comed to the dark side,but don't burned in mustafar,like he don't use the suit) he thought she was dead but in fact she joined the rebelion, and now she is Captured for interrogation and he finds out that she was alive and had the twins (leia and luke). Srry if it's too long or confusing, english is not my first language and it's very hard write complex things. have a nice day ( ˘ ³˘)♥”

Summary: You deal with the repercussions of your husband turning to the dark side while you join the rebellion.

The War Within

Anakin Skywalker x female!reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: depictions of canon-type violence & torture, like one curse, and a lot of angst (but also fluff!)

“Anakin has turned to the dark side,” Obi-Wan tells you, sorrow dancing in his expression as he looks at you. You stare back with defiance.

“You’re lying! Anakin would never do such a thing. He’s sworn to defend this galaxy.” You sneer, turning away from Obi-Wan. You’re a couple of months pregnant with Anakin’s child, as he has been your husband in secret for a while now. Your bump hasn’t shown yet, luckily.

“He was deceived by a lie, (Y/n). We all were. Listen to me, when did you see him last?” Obi-Wan asks, stepping in front of you again.

“That’s unimportant! Anakin would never turn to the dark side, he’s the most caring person I know!” You scream, tears pricking at your eyes.

“I saw it myself. There’s...a security hologram of him killing...younglings. In the temple. You were away, but...he’s gone mad, (Y/n). He’s a danger to himself and everyone around him. Help the Jedi. You’re one of us. You know what the right thing to do is.” Obi-Wan tries to convince you. You look up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks by now.

“Do I? Your Jedi order is the one that got us here- he- I don’t…” You sob, sitting down on the nearest thing as the emotions start to overwhelm you.

“Reach out to him, (Y/n). Through the force. Then you’ll know I’m telling the truth.” He murmurs to you.

You do as he says, confident that Anakin won’t prove you wrong. Your Anakin could never turn to the dark side and do such horrible things.

Then you feel it.

“Ani!” You gasp, breaking out of your trance as your hand flies to your stomach to hold your barely-there baby bump. More tears spill down your cheeks as you feel the darkness that surrounds Anakin’s force signature.

“You know it, now. Please, do you have any information on where he might be?” He asks. You put a hand over your mouth to trap the sobs, one hand still resting on your stomach.

“Are you going to kill him?” You ask, looking up at Obi-Wan. His eyes glance down to your hand cradling your stomach.

“...You’re pregnant, aren’t you? And Anakin’s the father?” Obi-Wan asks. You don’t answer him, just look down as the salty tears drip from your chin onto your robes.

“Please don’t kill my husband,” You whisper.

“I will do what I must,” Obi-Wan says and turns around to make his exit. He turns back around to look at you one last time and says, “I’m sorry.”

Then he’s gone. And so is your hope of living a happy life.

~+~

It’s been four years since you gave birth to Luke and Leia. During that time, you had helped establish the rebellion against the empire. You’re the current leader, dedicating your time to fighting against the evils that haunt the galaxy. You know Anakin is out there, and he calls himself Darth Vader now. You honestly hope to never run into him, knowing that you won’t be able to face the consequences if you can’t turn him back to the light. If he stays dark and rejects you, you’re not sure what you’ll do then. It’s the ultimate slap in the face for you.

“General Skywalker, we’re under attack!” You hear from the entrance of the rebellion base you’re currently hiding out at. Your head whips to one of your men being shot down by a stormtrooper at the entrance.

Your body kicks into action before your brain does.

“Get Luke and Leia out of here!” You yell, gently pushing your children toward a group of the men you had been leading.

“But general, what about you-”

“I can handle myself. Get them out of here, I can’t have them getting hurt. I’ll be right behind you guys and I’ll catch up with you later.” You hurriedly rush everyone out of the back of the base.

“We’re not leaving you behind, sir!” Your right-hand man and closest friend, Bail Organa, insists. You hear the stormtroopers getting closer.

Turning around, you give the group a small sad smile.

“You don’t have a choice.” You use the force to slam the door shut and crunch the doors into place so that they are harder to move.

“Freeze!” You hear a modulated voice behind you. You raise your hands slowly and turn around, coming face-to-face with a platoon of stormtroopers with their blasters aimed at you.

“How unfortunate that it must resort to violence,” You sigh, obviously not that disgruntled about the situation.

“Remove your weapon slowly.” The stormtrooper at the front commands, gesturing to the lightsaber at your waist.

“What, this old thing? Oh, please, I don’t know if it even still works,” You scoff, unlatching it from your waist. You twist it around in your hand for a second, not making a move to set it down yet.

“Put it on the ground!” The stormtrooper demands.

“Relax! It’s not like I’m going to do,” You ponder for a moment, looking at the weapon, “this.”

In less than an instant, you’ve lunged at the first stormtrooper in the front and cut him in half with your lightsaber. You cut through men left and right, dodging the blaster fire or deflecting it back onto them.

However, the more stormtroopers you get rid of, the more stormtroopers flood in. Eventually, you’re corner into a wall as you try your best to keep the upper hand.

“We have an order not to kill! Drop the weapon!” There’s a frenzy of orders as you try to fight your way out, but it’s no use.

After a few more minutes of fighting, you get hit with a shock that sends jolts through your body until everything goes dark and you feel your body hit the ground.

~+~

You wake up to a dingy, dark cell aboard an unknown imperial ship. You’re currently on both your knees with your hands and feet chained behind your back.

You know where you are. You’d heard descriptions from spies about this ship before. No one has made it back alive. Yet.

The cell door opens, causing you to wince at the sliver of light it blinds you with. Two stormtroopers walk in with blasters aimed at you and a cart behind them.

“What are you gonna do with those fancy tools, hm?” You crack a smile, eyeing the silver cart behind them with curiosity. They stay silent, picking up a small blade from the cart.

“Tell us about the rebellion. What are your plans to overtake the empire?” One of the stormtroopers, the one not holding the knife, asks you. You stay quiet, making as much eye contact as you think you can through the visor of his helmet.

“We know you’re the leader of the rebellion! You should talk before your information hurts you.” The other trooper demands. You glare up at them from your kneeling position.

The first one, without the knife, kneels next to you and puts his blaster to your head.

“I could pull the trigger right now and no one would even care.” He gets close to your face, taunting you. You look at him directly and do something you’re not sure anyone’s ever dared to do on this ship before.

You spit on his helmet.

Immediately after your spit makes contact with his helmet, you feel a knife slash across your left ribs. The wound starts bleeding viciously, indicating that the cut is probably pretty deep.

You cry out sharply at the new pain, but immediately clench your jaw shut to keep as much satisfaction from them as possible.

“Need to rethink your answer?” The knife-wielding stormtrooper asks.

“Never.”

“I guess we’ll have to get to work, then.”

~+~

That continued for a few hours. Then a few days. After about a week and a half, they were getting frustrated. You’re guessing it’s because their superior is starting to pressure them more. That pressure is probably life or death.

“Listen, bitch. You’re going to talk or you’re going to get someone new in here and you’ll like him a lot less.” The first stormtrooper, whom you’ve nicknamed Blaster, threatens you.

“Try me.” You growl. This earns you a sharp slap across the face and some blood on the floor.

“That’s it, man. We’ve been at this for over a week. I think it’s time to call the boss.”

“He won’t be happy.”

“We don’t have any other choice.”

“Fine. Let’s go get him.”

~+~

That was the last thing you heard for three days. You went the next three days without light, food, or contact of any kind. Luckily, they had given your chains a little slack so that you could change positions occasionally.

Currently, you’re facing the wall and meditating. You had gotten good at meditating after Anakin turned to the dark side. You were constantly trying to reach out to him, but he would never let you. There was a wall in the way of some kind, he couldn’t even tell you were there.

Suddenly, you hear the door slide open behind you and you see the lights turn on. You grimace at the light but try not to let it distract you. There’s an especially dark force behind you, but you can’t tell who it might be.

“Well? Don’t think you can intimidate me by just standing there in the darkness. Come in here if you really want to make me talk.” You scoff, knowing that the hall light is still off. You can feel it. Whoever this is, they want the effect of a dramatic entrance.

“You sound familiar...did I know you?” The voice finally speaks behind you. The realization makes you go cold.

It’s Anakin.

You don’t know how to respond for a moment, whether to turn around and cry out for him or to stay cold and unforgiving to this man you no longer know. You opt for the latter option.

“You did...at one point.” You pray to the force that your voice stays even, not showing any signs of weakness. Your heart is the complete opposite, hammering in your chest like you’re on the brink of death. You honestly might be.

“What is your name?” He asks, and you hear him step forward into the room. You take a deep breath and steel your nerves.

“(Y/n) Skywalker.” You finally turn around and stare into the cold eyes of the man you once loved.

She sees the posture of Darth Vader go slack as he stares into her eyes. His own eyes lose their anger and his pupils dilate slightly, taking her in. You see the yellow of his eyes start to fade already.

“(Y/n)?” He asks and the edge in his voice is gone. You hear the old Anakin through the façade of the powerful man in front of you.

“It’s me, Ani.” You smile slightly. You’re getting to him just by him seeing you, which is better than you ever imagined.

“I...You...You’re dead. Obi-Wan told me that...you died. I thought...I thought the Jedi got rid of you.” He seems completely breathless from just the sight of you, questioning everything he’s been working on for the past four years.

“Why would they do that? I was one of their best assets. Besides, did you...did you never look for me? At least for my force signature?” You ask, eyes softening as the old Ani comes back to you. The Anakin that you knew and fell in love with. Your husband.

“No, I...I lost all hope...You…” He screws his eyes shut. You can feel the internal battle he’s having currently. The struggle between the light and dark raging just beneath the surface of him. He was so wrapped up in the darkness but the mere sight of you has awakened the light he didn’t know he still had in him and it’s torturing him.

“Ani…” You murmur, wanting so badly to be free of these chains so you can reach out to him and help.

“No.” his eyes open forcefully and the yellow iris of the dark side has returned, staring coldly at you in front of him. Your heart aches but you know that this isn’t easy for him. It’s not just a switch he can flip, but you’re willing to keep trying. If the first appearance of you is anything to go by, he’s now teetering on the edge and you just have to gain enough traction to push him over to the light side.

“Anakin, I’m alive. Look at me,” You plead, looking at him with love adorned eyes. The love you had for your Anakin never faded. After all, Darth Vader is not your Anakin. But he can be your Anakin again.

“You may as well be dead to me now. After all this time, you knew I was alive and you plotted against me. You turned against me.” He growls, and you see his fingers twitch. You had heard about the infamous force-choke that he was known to subject people to if he was angry. You’d have to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible.

“No...Anakin-”

“That’s Darth Vader to you!” He yells, lashing his hand out to grip your throat with the force. You notice that he does not immediately choke you or lift you off the ground, just leaves the force there as a threat.

“I turned against Darth Vader. I never once turned my back on my husband, Anakin Skywalker. I never will, either. Anakin’s legacy will live on through me and our children.” You promise, staring defiantly at him even though he’s threatening you. The force leaves its grip around your throat and you see his body go slack once more at your words. His hand drops to his waist.

“Our...children?” He murmurs, the softness returning to his voice. Once again you see the battle ensue in him. The storm batters his mind endlessly as the yellow starts to fade again.

“Yes. I gave birth to Luke and Leia Skywalker. They’re beautiful, Ani. They’re ours. I love them. And your storm troopers almost killed them.” You tell him, hoping that he sees the light through this. Through your little family.

“Almost...killed…” He trails off, and through the force, you can see how wretched he feels. He’s so torn between the two sides that he doesn’t even know what to do with himself at this moment. You watch as he drops to his knees and lets out a feral scream as he clutches his head in his hands. You want so desperately to hold him at this moment. More than anything else you just want to hold him and help him.

But you can’t. This is his battle, not yours, and you’re currently chained to a wall.

“Come back to me, Ani. Return to me. Please. Together we can rid the galaxy of evil and restore it to peace and justice. Help me. Help me raise our children….help me live a full life with you. Let me love you.” You beg, struggling against your chains as the tears start to fall down your dirty and battered cheeks. You hurt for him so much, the force and your bond only intensifying the pain you feel for him.

“Join...Join me, (Y/n). Join me here. We can be more powerful than you ever realized. We can rule the galaxy together. Me and you. Side by side. As it’s meant to be. Free of the Jedi on your side.” Anakin grits his teeth and looks up at you again. His demand is less of a demand and more of a plea. His eyes fade in and out of yellow, and you can see that the light is starting to win. The dark is desperately clinging onto him, but it’s not dominating anymore. You can do this.

“The Jedi are no longer. You made sure of that, Anakin. I...I only know of a few left alive. A few that you didn’t kill. The Jedi order has disbanded. There is only the rebellion left. The rebellion that I formed. The rebellion that we can lead to victory, to a new world, side by side. Obi-Wan is there. Your friend, your former master. Ahsoka is there, your friend and former padawan. Together we can lead in the light, it doesn’t have to become dark again. Please. Join me with our friends and our family.” You ask of him, straining hard against the chains that keep you away from him. He clutches his head in his hands again, breaths coming out labored and in pain.

“Side by side?” He asks, almost shaking from the utter pain he is in.

“In the light. We’ll be powerful together just not here. You don’t need the dark side to be powerful. As long as we have each other we’ll be fine. I’m not dead. Nothing’s been able to get rid of me yet. Maybe this has been my destiny all along. To bring the chosen one back to the light side so that he may restore balance to the universe. Maybe my destiny has been to love you all along. We were never meant to be a bad thing.” You murmur, eyes searching his figure for any sign of the light as he battles his instinct versus his feelings.

Then he goes still.

“...Okay.” He looks up at you, his eyes shining a bright blue. More tears stream down your face, but this time they aren’t in pain. They’re tears of joy.

You reach out with the force, brushing against his force signature and feeling the light force that emanates from him. You let out a happy sob, wanting to embrace him. He crushes the chains that keep you from him, freeing you from your captivity. You run to him and he envelops you in a deep embrace. Your face presses against his chest as your tears ruin his former uniform. Oh well, he won’t be needing it anymore.

“I love you. I never stopped.” You whisper into his chest, clinging onto him like a dying woman.

“I never stopped loving you. It’s...it’s what fueled my anger. Your supposed death.” He admits, holding you close to him.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re back. We’ll never be separated anymore. I’ll make sure of it.” You promise, looking back up into his beautiful blue eyes.

“We’ll make sure of it together.” He cups your face, tilting it up and pressing his lips to yours tenderly but hungrily. The tears mix into your kiss, creating a salty taste. But neither of you cares. You had both been waiting for this moment for much too long to care about tears in the way.

When you finally break away, you let out a half-chuckle that gets caught in your throat. This is certainly a situation you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Now, how are we going to get out of here?” You ask, not daring to let him go even now.

“Leave that to me.” He tells you, brushing the hair behind your ear as he gazes at you lovingly.

Within moments, you’re back in chains and he’s leading you down the hallway, an angry façade on his face.

“Sir!” The stormtroopers salute him as the two of you walk down the hallway.

They’re terrified of him, you realize.

“Sir, where are you taking the prisoner?” A stormtrooper dares to ask, to which Anakin shoots him a glare and raises his hand threateningly.

“Imperial business, trooper. Know your place.” He growls, pushing you forward. You realize that Anakin has had your lightsaber strapped to his waist this entire time, making you smile. He knows it’s yours and he probably planned on asking you how you had gotten it before he realized who his prisoner was.

“S-Sorry, sir.” The trooper backs down immediately. The two of you make it to the docking area with no problems. Until one stormtrooper has some audacity.

“Sir...are you feeling well? You don’t look normal...wait a second, men! He’s not on our side-” Before he can finish, Anakin has cut him in half with his striking red lightsaber. The other troopers caught onto the cry for help, though, and are now aiming their blasters at the two of you.

“Well, I suppose we couldn’t have a clean getaway, could we?” You give Anakin a small mischievous smile that he returns.

“Not likely with the two of us,” He chuckles. The two of you spring into action. You realize you’re still bound by chains at the wrist so you put it over a trooper's head and start choking him, using his body as a shield until you can’t anymore.

“Saber!” You call out to Anakin. In a moment, he’s throwing your lightsaber to you. You catch it and activate it, cutting your chains in half. Now you’re ready to battle.

The two of you weave through troopers with ease, fighting back to back as if nothing had changed. You deflect blaster shots left and right, swinging through troopers as you make your way to the getaway ship.

Within mere moments, the two of you are on the loading ramp of the ship. Anakin goes to turn the ship on and the ramp starts to close. You lower your saber, thinking the fighting is over. Before you can react, Anakin is pressed against you again and deflecting a shot behind your back with his lightsaber. You turn just in time to see him crush the trooper that tried to kill you with the force. You frown slightly, knowing that there’s still a hint of aggressiveness and probably darkness in Anakin, but it’s nothing you can’t work on.

He’s back now, and that’s what matters.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Anakin asks, sitting down in the pilot’s seat and offering you a wide smile. This is probably the most he’s smiled in four years.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.” You smile back at him.

~+~

Once you’re back to your lead rebel base, you’re immediately greeted by a crowd. Out of the crowd emerges three figures: Bail Organa, Luke, and Leia. You crouch down as Luke and Leia run up to you and hug you.

“Mommy!” They cheer, laughing as you stand up and twirl around with them in your arms. They giggle as you set them down, clearly happy to see you again.

“You’re back. Congratulations, I didn’t know if we’d see you again.” Bail gives you a chuckle of relief as he gives you a clap on the back.

“Well, it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t found someone…” You trail off, looking behind you to see a sheepish Anakin step out. You sense the nerves radiating off of him. I mean, he is entering the camp that less than twenty-four hours ago he had promised to destroy.

The crowd of rebels takes a nervous step back, not sure how to react to your news. This was their sworn enemy, and now you’re claiming he helped you?

“How can you trust him?” Bail asks, sizing Anakin up with one hand ready on his blaster.

“He’s my husband.” You state plainly. This shocks the crowd.

“Your husband?”

“When did you two get married?”

“You’ve only been captured a couple of weeks!”

The crowd’s responses make you chuckle.

“I was married to Anakin Skywalker much before he became Darth Vader. He thought I was dead but...the sight of me made him abandon his sith side. He’s back to being Anakin Skywalker...my husband. I love him, and he will be accepted here.” You all-but-command. The crowd seems to ease just a little bit, but not much.

“Daddy?” Leia asks, a small look of skepticism on her face as she looks at Anakin. You see Anakin’s eyes shine with tears as he looks at his daughter, hearing her call him dad for the first time ever.

“I thought you said dad died.” Luke tugs on your leg, almost hiding behind you. You chuckle lightly.

“He did for a little bit, but...he’s back now. And he’s going to be a part of our life. We’re going to be a happy family now, okay?” You smile, tears pricking at your eyes for the third time that day alone as you look at your little family. The family you finally get to have.

“Okay…” The two of them cautiously approach Anakin. He kneels down, and they start to talk. You know they won’t be welcoming immediately, as he’s a stranger to them, but given time...you know that you can be a happy family again.

And with this thought, the hope of living a happy life returns to you. And this time, you know it’s here to stay.

~~~~~

Tags: @thesmallestalien @rowley-with-ackerman @official-hitmxn

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springday-aus · 3 years

Text

Disney Prince!AU with Seonghwa

★ Seonghwa as Disney’s Prince Charming ★

moodboard link

Group: ATEEZ

Member: Park Seonghwa

Genre: fluff, romance, hints of angst

part of the Disney Prince Series - could also be a prince!au

Type: Bulletpoint AU

Word Count: approx. 3k

A/N: I had to spice things up a bit bc after a rewatch of Cinderella, I have realized they have no flavor and got a bit carried away—so enjoy!

Warnings: family death + mentions of abusive family - you know the classic princess storyline.

Seonghwa….. is not your average prince

but it’s not depicted in a negative light

so, he’s the prince other nations wished they had

he’s very involved with the state of affairs, often spends time in the villages and conversing with the townsfolk, and often visits schools to read to them or just watch them and it’s so……...wholesome

*cut to him struggling to sit on the carpet with the kids bc his legs can’t fold*

basically everyone loves him because he’s got this angelic aura around him that just makes you feel like you can trust him with anything

and I mean anything

mothers would probably offer him their babies if that was appropriate

he’s just super sweet and tries to remember what he learns in order to take it back and make use of it with the current policies that the parliament is trying to endorse or something

obviously, this is the main image of him to the public

and it’s not fake

but those in the palace know he can get a bit mischievous and sassy

it’s only really seen by those who are close with him, or have been around for a longer time

like assistant!Hongjoong and head butler!Wooyoung

since they’re all close in age and grew up together too, they’re much more comfortable with one another

Hongjoong: *hits his head on a doorway*

Seonghwa: “......... are you an idiot?”

guard!Yeosang and butler-in-training!San: laughing

no, but for real, all of them know he’s basically an angel

the amount of shit he’s putting up with them, but like they make for great entertainment lmao

anyways

the older workers at the palace find him adorable

like when Seonghwa tried to sneak-eat the freshly picked strawberries

“my prince, did you just eat a strawberry?”

Seonghwa with a mouthful of them: “no”

he’s like the grandson they all want (and are trying to get, but we’ll get to that later)

other than his charities and visits and public outings, he’s also known to be a good horseback rider

like real good

Wooyoung: “this is the most princely we’ll ever see him”

he’s kidding, but he’s also not kidding

bc lbr: Seonghwa in a horseback riding fit with the shoulder pads and the helmet and the wind and

Wow

many gather to see him in his glorious, sweaty state afterwards

it’s funny bc he’s so handsome and there are times when he’ll acknowledge it and other times when he doesn’t

especially since the ateez boys just ignore him or tease him

now it just depends on how he feels that day as to how he’d react

since he’s got such a good reputation, you know what that means?

lots of treaties and lots of marriage proposals

on one hand, many nearby countries know how nice Prince Seonghwa is—and some thought he was naive enough to be deceived by them

and that led to a few wars, but they lost real bad bc they assumed he was too nice

when, in actuality, he’s very knowledgeable since he takes a lot after the king and the queen

that allowed much more respect for the kingdom, especially since he’s the first in line for the throne once he’s married

which leads to the second thing: he gets lots and lots of marriage proposals

have you SEEN him?????

do you know how CAPABLE he is????

helloo?????

anyways

the royal family kind of milks this—not in that way tho

it’s in the sense that it’s because they want him to find someone soon and there’s more time for them to learn the ropes about ruling a kingdom

that means lots of balls are thrown in hopes of Seonghwa finding someone to ~catch his eye~ and whatnot

but Seonghwa just uses this as a diplomatic advantage, you know? like a chance for him to meet other royals and build these relationships

and while he has good intentions, the rejected royals are kind of bitter, but they know better than to mess with the Royal Family

meanwhile, party planner!Yunho is lowkey racking in the dough from these events, so he’s fine throwing all these balls lmao

this is where you come in

but, it’s not how others might think

so, you used to be the daughter of a well-of-ish family—you had money for a house and caretakers who adored you and you with parents who loved you dearly

you lived in your own little bubble of love

but then your mother died

when she died, it was almost as if she had taken the lively atmosphere of the household with her

your father buried himself into his work, rarely making time for you anymore and…. there was a drift

one day he came home with a mysterious woman, proclaiming her as your stepmother

along with her came her two daughters, who were as ugly outside as they were on the inside

while you could have done without her passive-aggressiveness, it was nice to see your father happy

but lo-and-behold, you lucked out and he died on a business trip, leaving you alone with strangers to become your only family

it only got worse from there as they openly started to mock you, shame you and push you beyond your boundaries

as they could no longer pay for the staff, they also forced you to clean after them, cook for them, and make all the arrangements that they demanded

or, as your oh-so-lovely stepmother said “you’re below us and you will always be below us”

at first, you put up with it because there’s nowhere else for you

but, slowly, the idea of running away was starting to sound better

and the opportunity came as the palace was starting to look for more servants who would stay in the servants’ quarters

you immediately packed away your things, which wasn’t much to begin with—your mother’s locket being the major trinket you possessed

and ran off to work as a housekeeper, who hid away behind the palace walls and the public eye

since you clean for the palace, it also means cleaning after the balls

other than television appearances, you never really saw the royal family

even as you did work in the palace because……………. they’re running a goddamned country

but, of course, there are rumors and gossip with the other housekeepers which all come from reliable resources

**cough cough definitely Wooyoung cough cough**

so there’s a lot of what you heard, not really from what you’ve seen, despite what some might think when working in the palace

that was until you were called to work at your first ball

which meant you were cleaning after the tables and in the kitchens, going in and out of the ballroom and between dinner tables

getting glimpses of some of the royals

and picking up on some of their juicy conversations

(apparently this one duke almost had an affair with this king’s secret mistress… all the tea)

anyways

you get the point

every once in a while you have to work at the balls when they need the extra help

but, there was one that was…………. different

a lot of the balls are for the royals to take and engage and whatever, but there have been so many and Seonghwa………….

Seonghwa hasn’t been interested in a single one despite the purpose being to help him find someone

Hongjoong: “what’s wrong with them?”

Seonghwa: “there’s nothing wrong with them, I don’t want just someone”

Seonghwa: “I want it to happen naturally—call me old fashioned but if this is someone I want to spend the rest of my life with, it has to be someone who knows me”

Wooyoung, in the corner: “that is old fashioned, hasn’t he heard of tinder?”

advisor!Mingi: “I don’t think it would be a good look for the country if the prince is on tinder”

guard!Yeosang: “we should test it out”

butler-in-training!San: “omg reverse pretty woman”

Hongjoong: “everyone get out, you’re all useless”

okay, but like real talk: he’s such a romantic and the whole unofficial arranged marriage is just………. too much

so, his parents were like: so, you want more options?

Seonghwa: “not what I said”

and they expanded the invitation list for one night, meaning ANYONE had a shot with Seonghwa and

well

he is very popular, so you can imagine how many people were planning on coming and the staff (i.e. you) had to prepare for everything

for the week, the castle was bustling and you were running around to help out and it……. it was all so insane

and then it happens

you’re minding your own business and working and eavesdropping as one does when one works

because everyone is there and who doesn’t love listening to drama that isn’t just from fancy people

but since everyone is here

you failed to remember that a certain group of people were also there

the group of people being your step-mother and step sisters

instinctively, you ducked and hid, moving away from the main room that was swarmed with people who were all trying to obtain Seonghwa’s attention

(who was also trying to hide from everyone else and instinctively failing)

eventually, you found yourself in the gardens, where you tried to make yourself busy

but it ended up being a small walk through the gardens, picking up the occasional liter and small talk with the gardeners

the garden is huge, so you get a bit lost as you wander—physically and emotionally

meanwhile, Seonghwa managed to escape from the others with the help of the other ateez boys

major shoutout to Yunho and Jongho, who insisted on leading the cupid shuffle and cha cha slide

also Yeosang for blocking off people who were trying to shoot their shot with a tired Seonghwa who did not want any of this

he ended up in the gardens as well, walking down a small path with Yeosang trailing a bit farther behind

he spots you on a bench, admiring the flowers under the bright moonlight

and you were absolutely breath-taking

not wanting to disturb your peace, he tried to leave

only to knock into a garden gnome and catch your attention as he tries to not break it

You: “um”

Seonghwa: “I’m so sorry, I was just going to leave, I didn’t mean to disturb you”

You: he looks familiar

You: “I know you from somewhere”

Seonghwa: literally in the most extravagant suit and sparkle make-up as he’s still crouched on the ground trying not to break a gnome that cost like $5 at a Target

also Seonghwa: “have we met before?”

you exchange names and that’s when it clicks

You: “OH MY GOD. MY PRINCE.”

immediately, you try to curtsy or bow or whatever the royals make you do to the ground bc Seonghwa’s still at ground level

and Seonghwa’s just…………. scrambling to try to get you off the ground with flushed ears at you calling him your prince

Seonghwa: “please, you literally do not have to”

You: “I don’t want to be beheaded”

You: “plus, isn’t it like, illegal for me not to?”

Seonghwa: “well, I’m technically giving you orders not to…..”

You: well, can’t argue with that

you slowly get up and dust yourself off, unable to look at him in the eye

even from the corner of your eyes tho, you can see what the fuss is about

bc Seonghwa in that suit and hair swept back is hot™

You: “Prince, I apologize if I’m speaking out of line, but shouldn’t you be inside?”

Seonghwa: “couldn’t I ask you the same thing?”

You: “but this is in your honor, not mine”

Seonghwa: “is it tho?”

Seonghwa: “I keep telling everyone I would like to fall in love on my own and yet………. everyone keeps meddling and making plans and now everyone in the kingdom is after me when I’m just trying to do my best for our citizens”

you’re a bit silent, unsure as to how to respond

Seonghwa: “I’m sorry for just dumping this on you, but, everyone keeps telling me I shouldn’t be so worried”

You: “well, Prince, I think what you need to hear is that your feelings are valid”

You: “it’s only natural for you to want to find someone on your own—freedom is something everyone wants, which is why it’s so hard to obtain”

there’s a bit of an awkward silence

for one bc you didn’t know what he was really like and if you were allowed to say something like that

two being that you didn’t know if you should leave

but he speaks up

Seonghwa: “you’re right—I did need that”

the air loosens a bit between the two of you

Seonghwa: “so, are you also hiding from an influx of suitors?”

you laugh a little, playing like a twinkling melody to Seonghwa’s ears

You: “no, but I am hiding from people”

Seonghwa: “it’s okay, you don’t have to share if you don’t want to”

you two get to spend a bit more time together, just chatting and getting to know one another

he’s really sweet, but also kind of goofy with a handful of cheesy pickup lines that definitely comes from spending too much time on the internet but also Wooyoung

the time is short but sweet

bc, before you know it, it strikes 12 and Hongjoong has a hold on him by bulldozing past Yeosang who just blinks at the small gust of wind

Hongjoong: “Seonghwa! your parents are looking for you! we gotta go!”

he greets you hastily, before grabbing a hold of Seonghwa and dragging him away—in which Seonghwa is still trying to get one last look at you before you disappear off into the night

or, in your case, back to the kitchen to avoid your stepfamily

the rest of the night passes as expected, at least for you as you busy yourself with washing dishes in the kitchen

but Seonghwa found himself like a mercat, poking his head around trying to find you every once in a while

the time you’d spent together was short, but it was the most fun he’s had at these balls

and it showed, as noted by Hongjoong and Wooyoung with the week that followed after

he was spacing out, wondering what could have been if things were different

basically, homeboy was sulking bc he didn’t know when he could see you again or if you had someone or if you were even interested

Hongjoong: “how are we supposed to help him when we don’t even know who it is?”

Mingi: “didn’t you get a glimpse?”

Hongjoong: “I was busy with other things”

Wooyoung: “so you didn’t even ask for a name?”

Yeosang: “it’s (Y/N)”

all the boys:

Hongjoong: “how do you know that?”

Yeosang: “I was eavesdropping”

San: “um—”

Wooyoung: “wait, we know (Y/N)”

Yunho: “so am I throwing another party or?”

Wooyoung: “we can find (Y/N) first and then throw a party”

so, they kind of hunt you down to where you’re cleaning for the day

and Wooyoung asks you about Seonghwa

lowkey bc he wants the tea but also bc he wanted to make sure you’re not one of those insane people that are completely obsessed with him

(considering what he had to witness during that last ball)

and after passing his vibe check

he sends you to the library “to clean”

which is odd because you already cleaned it for the week but

Wooyoung: “I’m technically your boss, so go”

You: weirded out

also you: “okay”

little did you know, Seonghwa was already there, occupying himself with some new books while Hongjoong and Yeosang were keeping an eye out for you

who was lowkey trying to hide in the shadows and failing miserably bc of all the goddamned windows

Seonghwa spots your shadow, quickly getting up and following you

Seonghwa: “wait! (Y/N)?”

you turn around, a bit startled from the call out

Seonghwa: “I thought it was you”

you give a small bow to greet him

You: “my prince”

Seonghwa: “you can just call me Seonghwa”

Seonghwa: “I didn’t know you were here”

You: “I didn’t know you were here either”

he lets out a small chuckle

Seonghwa: “I meant I didn’t know you were staying in the castle”

You: “I’m not just staying here, I work here prin—Seonghwa”

Seonghwa: “well I guess that makes finding you a bit easier around here”

You: “you were looking for me?”

Seonghwa: “well, I like your company”

You: flushed

Seonghwa: “do you enjoy mine?”

You: “I’d be glad to bask in your presence”

and for a moment, it’s just the two of you

*cut to Hongjoong and Yeosang high-fiving in the back*

after that, the two of you spend more time together

it’s cute bc Seonghwa also likes to clean (which explains why there were never housekeepers needed for him)

so it means he also helps you clean and still have fun doing it

speaking of which, you got to find out how domestic he is and it melts your heart every time

especially when he’s interacting with children who visit the castle

so you can tell he really wants a family

bc he’s so good with kids and knows how to take care of people and what more can you really ask for

he’s also a great listener

like he really knows what you need based on what you tell him

and when you opened up to him about what happened at home

he was just such a big sweetheart about it, asking if you’re okay and checking with you emotionally and it

I LOVE PARK SEONGHWA SO MUCH

anyways

so his parents did find out bc Wooyoung has a big mouth and def blabbed to San and everyone else in the goddamned kingdom who knows Wooyoung

rip Seonghwa

also rip everyone in the kingdom who found out bc again

Seonghwa is very desired amongst many

which also led to a lot of jealous people who gossiped about you but jokes on them bc you still have Seonghwa at the end of the day and they have jack shit :)

back to what I was saying

when his parents found out, they were totally accepting of it considering how happy the two of you are

(also you were lowkey fearful they were just gonna straight up kill you bc you aren’t royal, but also, they’re good rulers who care about people)

which also meant they wanted to train you to help him run the kingdom but that’s a different story

anyways, prince charming!Seonghwa is indeed very charming

and gentlemanly and all that other good stuff

110 notes · View notes

blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Light the Pyres |Burn| - SUNGYOON

This chapter hurt so much I'm really sorry

Pairing: Sungyoon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: angst, bits of fluff, apocalypse!au

Triggers: cursing, implied death, semi-graphic depictions of blood

Word Count: 7.9k

As the world burns its last goodbyes, you find a jewel amidst the ashes.

Previous: Rise >> Burn

Golden Child Masterlist

If times were normal, three weeks stuck in the same space with anyone but Daeyeol or your mother would probably drive you insane. Only seeing one other person’s face for days after days on end? You’d almost rather be alone.

But whether it be because you have shared memories and common grief or simply because you’re compatible human beings, Sungyoon isn’t difficult to live with, not in the slightest. You don’t fight over food or water or living in the same space. His voice doesn’t grate on your nerves, even after a week of him being the only person you can talk to. He isn’t almost pleasant company anymore – he’s just pleasant.

Maybe even a little more than that.

Over one, two, then three weeks, you come apart to each other, exposing small bits of yourselves from beneath threads frayed by the apocalypse. Sungyoon craves coffee more than anything in the world. He used to be the fastest runner on his high school track team. He tells you his favorite color is black, and just to keep the conversation going you decide that black isn’t a real color since it’s technically the absence of all color, which sparks a debate that maybe grows a little too loud every once in a while but by the end, you’re laughing at Sungyoon’s indignant expression that slowly cracks into a smile.

Laughing. Not smirking. At something not morbid or deadly.

It feels almost surreal, being able to smile at a topic so inane.

“What’s your credibility, huh?” Sungyoon asks when you’ve stopped laughing, having given into a grudging smile himself. It makes his face look sweeter, gentler. “What makes you an expert on colors or the absence of them?”

“I did mechanical engineering in university,” you say, leaning back against the wall. Memories threaten to flood your mind but you keep them at bay, closing your eyes against the onslaught. “Took a few chemistry classes as a requirement. We learned about colors at some point.” You open your eyes and shrug. “It was kind of interesting, but not enough for me to change my major.”

“Mechanical engineering,” Sungyoon echoes, staring up at the ceiling. You kind of have to give it to him – you might be bored sitting around in this empty house sometimes, but he’s confined to the bed if he isn’t using the bathroom and he hasn’t complained yet. “That’s cool. Is that how you got that car to work before?”

“Yeah.” You swallow, a slightly bitter taste in your mouth at the memories of your almost finished second degree. “Mom was a mechanic. I grew up around cars and machines. I was almost done with my master’s when…”

When the apocalypse began and I started out across the country to find my mom.

From Sungyoon’s silence, you gather that he understands what you haven’t said. He also seems to understand you don’t want to talk about it and thankfully changes the topic. “I did sports medicine,” he says. “And I minored in music.”

You sit up. “Music? What did you play?”

“I can play a little piano, but I mostly sing – sang,” he corrects himself, a faraway look coming into his eyes.

You don’t miss the switch from present to past tense. Mood dampened, you both sit in silence for a moment, mourning the loss of your lives before they’d barely begun.

“I used to play piano,” you finally say, trying to salvage the conversation. “I wonder if it’s still at home,” you mumble, more to yourself than anybody.

“If it’s any consolation, people aren’t really looking for valuables at a time like this.” Sungyoon gives you a lopsided smile. “Assuming… well, even if people have broken in, I don’t think the piano would be the first thing they were looking for.”

You know Sungyoon means to comfort you, but the implication that anything happened to your house, to your home makes your heart stutter. It’s not a strange thing, people breaking into houses. Oftentimes they’re already open, the occupants either dead or fled.

But it’s your house, your home, and the thought that anything might’ve happened to it with your mom there flips your stomach.

Hypocrite. You’re sitting in one of those stolen homes right now, but you have a problem with people sitting in yours.

“Y/N?”

You look over to see Sungyoon staring back, concern in his expression. Swallowing, you try to smile. “Sorry, what?”

“Nothing,” he says. “You just went quiet for a bit.” He raises an eyebrow. “Thoughts?”

What do you say? Do you tell Sungyoon what you’re really thinking? Do you tell him you’re terrified of coming home to a house that’s been ransacked and laid bare? Do you tell him you’re scared of finding your mom in an empty home with nothing around her left, that you’re even more scared of finding an empty home with no mother inside?

You curve your lips, trusting Sungyoon won’t ask even if he sees that the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “No,” you lie. “It’s nothing. So.” You look at him, your smile turning a little more genuine. “You sing?”

. . . . .

He does. He sings.

Beautifully.

His voice breaks sometimes, of course. Weeks of forced silence have taken tolls on both of your throats, and even speaking hurts if you talk too long. But the longer he sings, the longer his song fills your ears, the stronger his voice grows, rich and powerful even in his hushed melodies. It wraps around you like a blanket or a shawl, warming your skin in a way even the sun can’t.

When he first spoke to you so many weeks ago, told you not to hurt yourself by kicking the car down that one horrible day, you thought he could be a singer, thought that his voice was smooth, clear. Like Daeyeol’s. You hated it then, when it only reminded you of your best friend and what he was no longer around to do, what you had lost trying to save this boy with a nice voice who didn’t deserve it.

You still hear hints of Daeyeol’s clarity in Sungyoon’s quiet song. Even more obvious is the love of music in Sungyoon’s eyes that perfectly matches that of your dead friend. The few times Daeyeol hummed old songs to get you to sleep when the sun was still up, he always wore that look in his eyes. It fit him like a second skin, that soft love for music dancing in his expression, and you would try to keep that look in mind as he soothed you into sleep. It brought you both back to better times, when death didn’t lurk around every corner.

It hurts a little to see this look in Sungyoon’s face, for sure, but it also soothes another pain, the pain of knowing that you’ll never see Daeyeol ever again until it’s your turn to go. Because even though you’ll never gaze on his face again during your time on this earth, you’ll still see bits of him, hear parts of him in Sungyoon’s eyes and voice. Where that reminder might’ve felt like a stab in the chest before, it now smooths a blanket over your body, wrapping you in the knowledge that Daeyeol will always live with you, in your memories and in Sungyoon’s voice.

Sungyoon doesn’t ask why you’re crying when he finishes his song, even though he can definitely see you wiping away tears from your perch at the foot of his bed. You don’t make an effort to hide it, really – you’ve done worse things in front of him than cry, and besides, he looks a little teary himself. For a moment, you only sit in your respective positions, trying to rein in your tears until he breaks the silence again.

“That was my sister’s favorite song,” he whispers. “She played it so much that Bomin once threatened to delete it off of her playlist.”

You swallow at the mention of his sister and her boyfriend, guilt snaking its way up your chest. It’s a little easier to ignore right now, though, especially when you realize that this is the first time Sungyoon’s put a name to either of the two people you shot. “Bomin was her boyfriend?” you ask.

He nods. “I never said?”

As you shake your head, it only just occurs to you how little you know of Sungyoon’s family. You haven’t said that much – he knows about your mom and Daeyeol, but little of anyone else – but even that seems like a lot compared to what little he has (more like hasn’t) said about his family. You don’t even know his sister’s name.

You’re not even sure you want to. Putting a name to dead faces, faces that you shot bullets through…

Swallowing, you shake your head again, this time more trying to clear your head than say no. “No, you never mentioned it.”

“Oh.” He pauses. “Bomin was Sumin’s boyfriend. Sumin was my sister.”

Bomin. Sumin. The addition of two names to your repertoire (and the past tense for Bomin) nearly makes your head spin. Bomin with dyed, pale hair, Sumin with dark. Bomin with chiseled, handsome features marred by white skin and dark veins. Sumin with a round, soft face and eyes that probably would’ve looked lovely with a smile had they not been shrunken with disease.

You didn’t know either of them at all, which just makes the fact that you put a bullet through each of their heads even worse.

In fact, you pressured Sungyoon into letting you do it.

Both of you agreed not to apologize anymore. But the only words hanging on the tip of your tongue consist of I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Sungyoon, I’m sorry –

“It wasn’t your fault.”

You blink. “What?”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Sungyoon’s eyes bore into yours softly, understanding and reproachful all at once. “That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it? Bomin and Sumin.”

Despite everything, a wry little smile curls the corner of your mouth. “Was it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who saw what happened.” Sungyoon shifts on the bed, sitting up against the wall. “You didn’t kill them, Y/N. The zombies did.”

“See, I know that.” You stare at your hands, the smile wiped from your lips. “Logically. But –”

“Your brain won’t let you,” Sungyoon finishes. “Yeah, I know. It’s the same with me and… you know.” He leans forward, fixing your gaze with his. “So I’ll keep saying it until your brain finally figures it out. Okay?”

The tears try to come again, but this time, you hold them back. “Same for you,” you manage, hoping the wobble in your voice isn’t as prominent as it feels to you. “It wasn’t your fault. It never was. And I’ll keep saying that until you know it too.”

Sungyoon turns away. You don’t try to follow his gaze, to probe at his expression. You don’t need to.

It’s enough, this understanding that hangs quiet in the air.

. . . . .

On week three, when Sungyoon’s finally started to limp around the house, Lady Luck puts you in her good graces and you find a source of transportation far better than your legs. You don’t thank her too much, though, since you literally found the two bikes after being chased twice around the same building by a small, though vicious group of zombies.

Even then, a little bit of excitement sparks in your still-racing heart when you pedal up to the front of the house and dump the first bike indoors. Sungyoon pokes his head out through the bedroom at your call.

You grin. “Remember how to ride a bike?”

It takes a second dangerous trip to bring the other one back but you manage, since Sungyoon is still slow on his feet. When Sungyoon feels ready to try it out, you watch closely as he slings himself onto the cracked seat, ready to catch him if he falls.

He does, twice. But the third time, he actually starts wobbling up and down the front of the house, pedaling slowly but steadily.

A cry almost escapes your throat when he turns around on the street, pedaling back with sparkling eyes and lips curving in a rare smile of success. But though you stifle the sound, you can’t help but run up and hug him when he dismounts, one hand holding the bike steady as you wrap the other around his chest.

Sungyoon’s breath catches. The little gasp in his throat reminds you of what you’re doing, that he might be uncomfortable, and you go to apologize and pull away, insides curdling with embarrassment.

But then he wraps both of his arms around you, bringing you in closer with a gentle, uncertain grip, hands locked loosely at your waist. And it’s your turn to catch your breath at the subtle warmth of Sungyoon’s thin body, a warmth more comforting than even the rays of afternoon sun beginning to set in the sky.

Human touch. Human comfort. Human warmth. You bury yourself in Sungyoon and he buries himself in you, earlier excitement forgotten in favor of the comforting warmth of the other’s touch.

You don’t say anything about it, even after you let go. You only part naturally, smiling at each other as your arms fall to your sides before finally reentering the house. Sungyoon goes back to lying on the little couch, resting his leg, while you carefully stand the bike by the door and go to find something to eat. Conversation is quiet. Not awkward, not stilted, just quiet. You still don’t mention the hug.

But later that night, after you’ve barricaded the door and freshened up as best you can, Sungyoon is still sitting up in the bedroom. You pause in the doorway. “Sungyoon?”

“It isn’t comfortable on the floor, is it?” he asks, voice strangely stilted. He doesn’t wait for an answer before rushing on. “Come up here. It’ll be easier on your back.”

It takes several moments to process his words before you start protesting, saying the floor isn’t that bad and that you read something about how sleeping on hard surfaces is actually better for your back, but your voice dies away when Sungyoon holds out his arms in the dark, shifting to make room for you on the threadbare mattress.

Something about this feels like it should be wrong. Taking comfort in someone who isn’t Daeyeol or your mom or even one of the friends you left behind, probably never to see any of them ever again. You’ve only known Sungyoon for a matter of weeks. Daeyeol you knew for over twenty years. Your mom, even longer.

And now you’re taking comfort in someone when none of them are around to experience it themselves. Guilt simmers in your chest.

But walking into Sungyoon’s arms sweeps it away.

His touch is just as soft and unsure as it was earlier under the afternoon sun, but if anything, it feels warmer in the dark. And as you gain a little courage, letting him curl closer into you as your breaths begin to even from exhaustion, the touch becomes a little more certain, a little firmer and stronger as he loosens against your body.

One brave hand reaches up, tangles briefly through Sungyoon’s hair. “Goodnight,” you whisper.

He squeezes you once, gently. “Goodnight.”

. . . . .

The fourth week has passed by the time Sungyoon walks without a limp. You really would have wanted to go the first day he could put weight on his leg, but if you had, you wouldn’t have found the bikes. And considering the fact that you only have two bullets left, you’re thankful for a method of quick escape.

“We need to get out of the city,” you say, swinging one leg over your bike. “There are too many zombies here. Just follow me, I think I’ve mapped out how to get to the highway. It’ll probably be smoother from there.”

Sungyoon nods. “Let’s go, then.”

Your heart pounds as you pedal down the streets, quickly, quietly. The rusty bikes creak a little under your weight and with every weird noise you tense, pedaling faster, but street after street, you and Sungyoon ride without too much trouble.

Until you turn a corner and the faint sound of dead groans echoes from farther down the street.

Both of you stop. Sungyoon looks over. “Is there another way?”

“I mean, probably.” You swallow. “But they’re in the direction of the highway and regardless, we’ll have to go past. I don’t… I’m not sure…”

The groans grow louder.

“Let’s see if we can loop around,” you decide, trying to picture the general layout of buildings. “Just… be ready to ride fast.”

Sungyoon almost smirks. “That wasn’t a given?”

You hit him, even as you stifle a smile. But that smile disappears quickly as you ride closer and closer to the sounds of groans.

The first zombie lurches out from behind a collapsed home. It stumbles over the sidewalk, clawing forward, but you and Sungyoon move too fast and leave it quickly behind.

But then a second pops out in the distance. And a third.

Behind you, Sungyoon mutters a curse. You don’t blame him. Much worse words are running through your mind. “Through the cars,” you hiss, weaving between several vehicles stranded on the road. “Harder for them to get us.”

The sound of limbs slapping against metal and glass makes you want to hurl. Groans and shrieks echo off the sides of the cars, overpowering the creaking of your bike and filling your ears with their sickening sound. You pedal fast, fast, faster, swerving between a last car into open road –

Sungyoon races past, surpassing you as a zombie just misses grabbing the wheel of his bike. You pedal harder to catch up, staring straight ahead towards the entrance of the highway that’s finally in sight.

Something brushes your arm. You shriek, almost tipping off balance as dead white fingers flash in your peripherals, but a backwards glance from Sungyoon forces you to stay upright and you pedal forward with a last rush of speed, rolling onto a smooth, zombie-free road.

You ride for what feels like hours until you have to call it quits. Stumbling behind an abandoned truck, you collapse in the shade, legs shaking with exertion and adrenaline. Sungyoon follows quickly, dropping his bike onto the asphalt to sit next to you.

For a moment, you only sit in silence, panting under the hot sun.

Then you heave a shaky breath and start to laugh.

It starts out as a gasp, really. That first breath doesn’t fully go out the way you want it to and you wheeze a gasp, then another, and another and another until your wheezes turn into breathless laughter that treads the line of hysteria but then Sungyoon is starting to laugh too and all you can do is revel in the fact that you can laugh, snort, giggle because you’re alive. You made it out of that infested city alive, alive despite that horde at the end, and God, now you’re trembling because even though you’ve had close encounters with the undead before, you can still feel cold, peeling skin just dragging against your shirt –

You start crying.

Adrenaline seeps out of your body like blood from a wound. Your stomach hurts from laughing. Your eyes ache with tears. You keep feeling that feather light, deathly cold touch brushing your arm, almost like a wisp of wind curling against your skin but so much colder, like ice freezing your veins even under the burning sun.

Cold. Cold. Cold. And no one, not Daeyeol, not your mother, no one to help you out of this icy sun –

Sungyoon’s shaking arms wrap around you, and you remember what it feels like to be warm again.

You grip him tight, tight, tighter, holding onto this last piece of human life. Everyone else you know is dead or probably dead and only Sungyoon is a constant, still here and alive despite the fact that you could’ve split up all those weeks ago.

Until the day you die, you’ll be grateful you chose not to.

He holds you and you hold him until both of you finally stop trembling in the hot shade of the truck, but even then, you latch on just a little bit longer, memorizing the weight of his thin body pressed against yours. Hunger has hollowed his skin and yours, eaten away the muscle that used to cushion your bones, but Sungyoon’s arms still hold a fragile strength that slowly bleeds into you, giving you the courage to wipe away the tears.

That night, after hours of riding on quiet roads, no silent, tentative question hangs in the air like it always has when Sungyoon slumps against your sitting figure, head falling into your lap as you fight to keep your eyes open for first watch. Without hesitation, you tangle your fingers through his curly hair, soothing him into sleep.

Sungyoon is your warmth, just as you are his. Reminders to each other that even in this blackened world of death and ashes, both of you are still alive.

. . . . .

The closer you get to home, the harder sleep comes. You don’t know why. It should be the opposite, right? You’re closer to your goal. Closer to your mom.

But that also means you’re closer to uncertainty. Closer to the Schrodinger’s cat-type limbo where you don’t know whether or not your mom is still alive. Only with Schrodinger’s cat, there’s an exactly fifty percent chance that the animal is dead. Or so you think. It’s been some time since you had time to think about quantum mechanics.

Doesn’t matter. Odds are now, the scale’s been tipped a little further in that direction.

You don’t know what you’ll do if she’s dead.

Scratch that. You kind of know what you’ll do. Scream. Cry, probably. Either that or just go silent.

You don’t know what you’ll do if she’s just disappeared.

Because then there’s Schrodinger’s cat again, constantly hovering between life and death. Knowing at least gives you facts – you’ll be certain as to whether she’s dead or alive.

Not knowing will rip you apart.

Sungyoon decides it’s enough when you wake up the third time during his second watch, chest heaving from nightmares where you return home alone and there’s no one. Not him, not your mom, not even a single zombie. There’s no blood on the floor or anything to indicate struggle. The house is perfect, just as you left it when you went back to university the last time.

But it’s empty. Cold.

And only silence answers your calls.

“Okay, that’s it.” Sungyoon’s tone is softer than his sharp words. He gently grips your shoulders, pulling you up in the darkness. “What’s wrong? What are you dreaming of?”

You shiver even in his hold, remembering the chill of the empty house, the choking silence that greeted your calls. How do you begin to describe that, the fear of not knowing whether or not your mother is alive?

Then it hits you.

Sungyoon will understand. He has to. He walked back to a zombie infested city on an injured leg to find his sister and her boyfriend, Sumin and Bomin, all the while not knowing if they were alive or dead.

“What if she’s not there?”

His grip slackens. “What?”

You swallow. “What if my mom isn’t there?”

For a long moment, both of you stay silent. In the dark, you can’t even make out the expression on Sungyoon’s face.

“I don’t know,” he finally replies. “What will you do?”

Fear ices your throat. You can’t speak. What will you do? If it turns out you came all this way, across an entire country, for nothing?

“What did you do?” you manage once it feels like your vocal cords have thawed. “When you went back and…?” A wince of guilt and shame keeps you from saying more.

Sungyoon falls quiet. You recognize this silence not as brooding, not as angry, but thinking. Contemplative. It eases the tightness in your chest.

“It felt like everything was lost to me,” he finally says. “They were all I had left. When it finally hit me that they were gone…” He shakes his head. “But that’s not what you meant, right? You’re asking about before. When I didn’t know.”

You nod, curling closer into him. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know,” Sungyoon says. “Honestly, I don’t know how I dealt with it. All I know is that it was eating at me so much that I had to go back and find out myself. So I was an idiot.”

There’s a little smile in his voice, a twitch of the lips that you can hear in his last few words. Your mouth almost curves, too. “But what if we go back and I still don’t know?” you ask. “What if she’s just… gone?”

“It’ll be your choice whether or not you want to leave it at that or keep looking,” Sungyoon answers after a pause. “I can’t make the decision for you. But…”

You look up. “But?”

“You know what kept me going after all of that?” He doesn’t wait for a reply. “The fact that you offered to let me come with you, despite what had happened. It was the fact that someone, more or less a stranger, gave me a place with them.”

“Really? I honestly thought you were going to laugh in my face as soon as I said it,” you admit. “I’d just… done that, and a few hours later, I was asking you to walk across an entire country with me.” You wince. “Not exactly bonding material.”

“I won’t lie, I kind of considered it.” Sungyoon seems to shrug in the darkness. “But even then, I knew you weren’t evil, regardless of what happened. You still lost a friend. You were still trying to stay alive. And when you talked about your mom…” He sighs. “What I’m saying is you were there for me, Y/N.” His grip on your hand tightens softly. “And whatever happens when we get to your home, I’ll still be there for you.”

The lump in your throat refuses to let you speak, so you only sink further into Sungyoon’s body, trying to hold back the tears threatening to escape your eyes. He seems to understand. His fingers rise and card through your hair, stroking smooth against your scalp.

If this is how Daeyeol felt every time you did this when he was sick, you now understand why he asked for head pats whenever he wasn’t doing well. It soothes you, even if one or two tears do make their way down your face at the thought of your best friend.

Fuck. You close your eyes. Daeyeol would have found a good friend in Sungyoon, you’re sure. Your mom would probably love him too. More than anything, you wish they were here.

But you still have someone. You have Sungyoon. You have someone you trust, someone you rely on, someone you can hold close at times like this when you start to spiral and can’t force yourself out of your mind.

You’d like to say that Sungyoon feels the same.

“Is that okay?” Sungyoon asks softly, breaking into your thoughts. His fingers keep stroking your hair gently, softly.

Your eyes are starting to close again, weighed down by sleep. Nightmares might be waiting, but Sungyoon’s words and warmth make you think they might stay at bay. You nod against his chest. “Yes,” you murmur. “More than okay.”

“Good.” His hands don’t stop. “Now sleep. There are only a few hours before dawn.”

You don’t need to be told twice, only curl further into him and shut your eyes. As sleep finally begins to roll over you in waves, you sigh. “Thank you,” you whisper.

His breath stirs your hair. “For what?”

A small smile curves your lips.

“For being here.”

. . . . .

The buildings start looking familiar two weeks and five zombie attacks later. There are more undead here, probably because you’re closer to the site of the explosion. Even though you’re still several states away, the virus spread more quickly here than on the other side of the country.

At some point after the third attack, you try to apologize while patching up several scrapes on Sungyoon’s arms. There isn’t even time to stay – you need to keep riding, find a place to take shelter for the night before zombies find you. He doesn’t deserve this.

“You don’t either,” he points out. “Neither of us ever deserved this.”

“But I have to deal with it to get home. You don’t.”

“And I signed up for the ride.” Sungyoon pats a bandage more firmly in place before taking your outstretched hand and standing up. He squeezes your fingers. “Come on, let’s get moving.”

Your heart pounds painfully as you ride down the last stretch of highway, faded signs bearing the name of your hometown. Everything almost looks the same, if you ignore the dried blood spattered along the sidewalks and panes of shattered glass on the streets.

And the zombies milling about at the base of the exit.

Sungyoon stops when you do, frowning when he sees the faint outlines of white skin and blackened veins. “Great.”

You snort, hysteria building in your throat. “Great” is the perfect way to put it. So close, yet so far – separated from your home by a throng of the undead.

There are only a few right now. From here, up on the highway, you can only count four or five. Zombies don’t move fast and if it’s just those few, you could probably outstrip them.

But they’re definitely not the only ones. And you have no way of knowing just how many are left in the city.

Think, think, think! You hit your head lightly. You grew up here, explored the entire city, walked all the roads by the time you went off to college the first time. Even though things have probably changed, they can’t be too drastically different. Any small nooks, any back roads or alleys you can find where zombies aren’t likely to be…

“What do you think will be more zombie infested?” you ask. “Residential roads or the actual city?”

“… City,” Sungyoon says. “More densely packed people, right?”

You bite your lip. He’s right. The highway leads to a road that cuts straight through the middle of the city and it would probably be faster to follow it straight down and just make a few appropriate turns before reaching your home, but it’ll probably be safer to take the longer local path.

Local it is. God, you hope your sense of direction is as good as it used to be.

“We’re going straight down now before more zombies come,” you say, swinging a leg over your bike. “As fast as you can. We turn left at that first traffic light and then be ready to follow me.”

The downward slope of the highway gives you a burst of speed you dearly need once you reach the road. You speed past abandoned cars and several milling zombies that turn to give chase, but you and Sungyoon are already turning left, racing down a street of empty shops and cafes. You used to hang out there with Daeyeol and a few of your friends before –

Not the time. You pedal faster. The groans of chasing zombies has grown fainter, which is good, but there are definitely more.

As if on cue, several sets of gangly, white limbs pop out from behind a building, lurching towards Sungyoon’s bike. He swerves around a car and you grit your teeth to avoid crying out. “Keep going!” you shout, pedaling faster. Faster.

Street signs whiz past. You almost miss the first turn, jerking sharply to the right at the last minute. Sungyoon curses and you look back but he’s following, still following, weaving around zombies and cars as he keeps racing forward.

Right. Left. Straight. Left. More zombies join the chase, relentless even as you and Sungyoon leave them behind, legs straining to keep the speed.

Left, left, straight. Pedaling uphill is a pain. Your thighs burn and your chest aches but then you’re rolling downhill and you catch your breath before straining once more.

Straight. Right. Right. Left. You pass by your old high school, grass trampled and overgrown in the front.

Left, right. You race down a street lined with houses you used to envy – if you lived closer to school, you wouldn’t have had to get up early for the bus every morning.

Straight. You pedal past a small plaza. Clubs used to congregate in the restaurants for end of year celebrations. It’s where you went with your friends on the last day of high school and where you had dinner with your mom the next day after graduation.

Mom. Mom. You go right, then left, racing past aching memories, all the while conscious of zombies groaning in the background and Sungyoon panting by your side. Mom, I’m almost there. Almost home.

Please be there.

The last street comes into sight. You swing around a last building and a last car, finding yourself on a familiar street that you haven’t seen in years. You pedal slower, slower, until you stop in front of your house.

Memories almost paralyze you. This was where you met Daeyeol when he first moved in. This was where you almost got hit by a speeding car when you were out playing as a child. This was where you walked from every day to the bus stop for over five years to get to school –

Sungyoon grabs your wrist, glancing behind. Already, the sound of groans is growing louder. “Is this it?” he asks, nodding at the front door.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You squeeze your eyes shut, shake yourself out of your daze. “Yeah. Come on.”

With each step forward, you feel like you’re walking back in time. You grow younger and younger, smaller and smaller, until you’re finally pulling out the house key you’ve kept in your bag for so long, waiting for this moment –

You stop, key held uselessly between your fingers as you take in the scuff marks around the doorknob and the lock.

The door has already been forced open at least once.

Sungyoon notices the marks, notices your silence. He pulls open the door anyway and shoves you inside, slamming it shut behind you.

He plucks the key from your hand. Locks the door with a faint, familiar click.

You look around in a daze, taking in overturned furniture, books and magazines strewn over the floor, cabinets left open from what you can see in the kitchen. Clouds of dust spring up where you step.

You sneeze. The sound brings you back to the present.

Your home has been ransacked. Someone broke in and took what they thought was worth taking, leaving behind furniture and books and the piano standing against the wall. Someone broke in and either spared your mother or killed her –

Or she wasn’t there in the first place.

You can feel Sungyoon’s eyes following your movements as you step forward, slow and cautious. Dust itches your throat and burns your eyes but you keep moving, surveying the damage. “Mom?”

There’s no sign of human life. Not a footprint in the dust, not a handprint on the wall. But there’s also no blood. No sign of struggle.

So where is she?

“Mom?”

Panic seizes your chest and you walk forward faster, looking into the kitchen as if she’ll be hiding somewhere there. When she doesn’t appear, you turn into the bathroom, the bedrooms, but only a mess of dust and objects meets your eyes. “Mom?”

No one replies.

She’s not here.

You try to reason it away. Maybe she’s out looking for food. Maybe she’s hiding. But you don’t have a basement or second floor so there’s nowhere she could be, and why would she be hiding, anyway? As for food…

Dust comes away on your fingertips as you drag them along the floor. Somewhere along the way, you sank down against the wall, alone in the hallway. Bits of dust rise with every breath you take.

If she was just looking for food, the house would still appear lived in. There wouldn’t be so much dust and dirt everywhere.

But she might have had to leave when people broke into the house. Right?

Or not. You swallow, tears starting to flow down your face. There was no sign of struggle, no blood or cracks in the wall. Just overturned furniture, probably from someone’s careless movements while looking for necessities.

Which means she isn’t here.

Not here. Not here. Not here not here not here not here – you came all this way and survived so many attacks and even lost Daeyeol and she’s not here –

And –

Daeyeol –

A cracked, broken sound emerges from your throat and your pounding head falls into your hands. You came this whole way and watched Daeyeol shoot himself just to find the dusty, empty house from your nightmares –

“Y/N.”

You turn your head to see Sungyoon in the hallway, holding a piece of paper in one hand. His face is pale.

He holds out the paper before you can work through the lump in your throat to ask what’s wrong. “I think you should read this.”

. . . . .

It’s long past dark and you still can’t sleep. Sungyoon drifted off about an hour ago, but even though you lie under the same sheet next to him on the floor, not even his warmth can lull you into dreamland this time.

Well. Probably more like nightmare land. The piece of paper crinkles in your hand, as if to remind you of what you’ve lost.

You try to close your eyes against the words that seem to flash in your vision. No use. They’ve tattooed themselves to the backs of your eyelids, trembling letters written in your mother’s familiar scrawl…

Y/N, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. I’m most likely dead.

Why did she feel the need to apologize for being dead? If anything, it’s your fault for not getting here fast enough.

Of course, there is the chance that I’m just out looking for food and will come back soon, but if I’m not home by night, it isn’t likely.

Night has gone and passed. It’s probably closer to morning.

Every time I leave the house, I put out this note. That way, in case you manage to find your way back, you’ll have this much left from me.

Tears start to build up again behind your still puffy eyes.

I heard you on that phone call. I knew you would come back or at least die trying. Because that’s who you are, Y/N, my strong, darling child. Brave to the last.

Brave. Ha. If only she knew how much you relied on others to keep you sane. First Daeyeol, then Sungyoon…

I miss you. Every day I miss you. But I have hope that you will come home one day, return to this house, even if I’m not there to welcome you.

She wasn’t.

If you are reading this note and I am not there, don’t blame yourself. It isn’t your fault. Nothing is certain, especially not our lives, not mine, not yours. If it was my time, then it was my time. Don’t hurt yourself, thinking you should have gotten here before.

But you could have. Maybe you should have. Sungyoon certainly thought so, judging from his silence as you read the note. He read it too, before you, and you know he was thinking you should have left him and his fractured leg back at that house in the city infested with zombies, left him and come back four weeks earlier to hopefully find your mother, alive and whole –

You don’t think you could’ve chosen differently, though. Sungyoon was there, right in front of you, injured and broken and you couldn’t just leave him behind. Even if your mother had still been here then (which you don’t think she was – the thick layer of dust all over the house speaks of over a month of disuse), would you even have made it back? Or, alone, would you have fallen to the trap of your own mind?

And even if you had returned in time, how would she have thought of you, knowing you left an injured person behind? You wouldn’t have been able to keep it from her. It would’ve spilled out, sometime.

Your heart clenches. Even though there logically wasn’t much you could do, it still hurts to think that you might’ve had a last chance to see her before she went.

Always remember that I love you, Y/N. You have always been the pride of my life. You are strong and brave, and if anyone is to survive this disaster, I pray it is you, both as my child and as a ray of hope for the future. We know something like this can’t happen again. I know you. I know you will help prevent it.

The tears start to spill. Again.

I love you. I miss you. I hope I will see you soon, but not before it is truly your time.

- Your loving mother

Tears fall harder, faster. You turn, pulling yourself out of the blanket so you won’t wake Sungyoon, and sit there, shaking with silent sobs.

I love you too. And I miss you even more.

You have little left of your mother but this note. All her clothes were taken from her room, the sheets of her bed pulled away, even her toolbox laid empty. Trinkets from shelves and tables lay smashed on the floor, fallen from careless searching. A few framed pictures survived. Little more. You don’t even have her body – you can’t even bury her, your mom, your hero, you can’t even give her the same respects you paid Daeyeol –

Your watery eyes light on the shadow of the piano, hidden in the darkness. The lid covering the keys is still closed, protecting them from dust, just the way you left it when you went back to university.

As if in a trance, you stand, walking towards the piano and settling on the dusty bench. You haven’t grown in the years since you’ve been at school and it’s still pulled the same distance back, leaving just enough space for you to stretch your hands out on the keys once you’ve lifted the lid. Dust billows and you cough, batting it away, but you put your hands back on the keyboard.

And begin to play.

It’s your mother’s favorite piece, a sonata’s slow second movement that she said never failed to calm her after a long day. But you don’t play it well – your fingers slip. You don’t remember all the notes. Rhythms are wrong, the melodies stilted, and you stop playing, resting your elbows on the edge of the instrument as you grind the heels of your palms into your eyes, tears beginning to pound once more. You couldn’t bury her so you thought you could give her a little music, but holy fuck, you can’t even properly give this tribute because you can’t play the fucking piece –

Sungyoon sits on the edge of the bench. You jump – you never realized he was awake, and you open your mouth to apologize for waking him up – but he just looks at you with a softness you can feel even in the dark. “Keep playing.”

Fingers trembling, you put them back on the keyboard. It doesn’t get better – missed notes and wrong rhythms still plague the piece – but Sungyoon nudges you every time you falter, pushing you to finish. And when you do, tears falling to the dust onto your lap, he pulls you over and wraps an arm around you, letting your head fall to his shoulder as you cry.

He holds you until the sun rises and you finally fall asleep.

. . . . .

As much as you want to leave as soon as you wake, you stay at home another day. Both of you need a break before you keep going west, now that there’s no time crunch, and there don’t seem to be many zombies walking up and down the street. As long as you and Sungyoon keep the window blinds shut, you consider yourself about as safe as you can get.

The security helps a little. Takes away a bit of anxiety. But wherever you go, no matter how messy the rooms are, you always know that you’re in the same house you grew up in. Just with the most important people of your childhood missing.

But Sungyoon is important, and Sungyoon is here. It helps, a little. Though when you find him staring at the few family photos left on a table, photos with you and your mother and one even with Daeyeol’s family, you have to leave the room because it just reminds you that Sungyoon lost everyone and has little beyond his sister’s earrings, as far as you know, to remember them by. And he had to take them from her body, when in any other “normal” situation of death he would’ve left them in for her burial…

Sungyoon cried over the earrings several weeks ago. Just looking at the pictures, comparing the memories they hold to two little gold hoops that can’t even fit around Sungyoon’s fifth finger, almost makes you want to smash the frames to the ground.

You almost don’t take them with you. It’s only when Sungyoon holds out the thin frames that you remember them, two-dimensional faces of people you lost, smiling with a joy that you don’t think you’ll feel ever again.

“You’ll want them,” Sungyoon says quietly. “It hurts now, but you will. Trust me.”

The weight behind his words convinces you.

In the end, you put them in your bag, stuffing your mother’s note into one of the frames. Sungyoon helps you cushion them with your spare clothes. When you’ve finally packed them away, you walk with him to the front of the house before hesitating in the doorway.

Sungyoon glances at you. “Ready?”

You don’t turn around, but you let your eyes wander over what of the living room you can see from here. You’ve left this house many times, both times when you went to university and every time you left after a break, but you always came back. Even when everything happened, you came back. You still came back.

This time, you don’t think you’ll ever return.

“Y/N?”

You hear Sungyoon, but you still say nothing, riveting your gaze to the door. Once you leave this house, you won’t come back. You can’t even hope for it.

But you think it’ll be okay, because home isn’t just a place. It’s with people, too. And though you will never forget your original home with your mom and Daeyeol, you think you’ve found the beginnings of another home with Sungyoon.

You take Sungyoon’s hand, tangle your fingers through his. He looks at you with some concern but you don’t look back, just blink your eyes and take a breath.

You’re leaving your original home for a less certain one, a home bound solely in human attachment without the solid root of a house. It’s a little tenuous, a little shaky, but with your hands joined like this, you think there’s a possibility things might be okay.

It’s a chance you’re willing to take.

“Yeah.” You finally look up, squeezing his fingers once. You twist the doorknob. “Let’s go.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for a certain two characters to stay alive)

36 notes · View notes

purple-baby-d · 3 years

Text

overthinking over you.

Lee Donghyuck (Haechan — NCT) X female reader.

Genre: Fluff, smut.

Word count: 8,672.

Content: student!hyuck, student!reader, sportplayers!nct, kissing, first time sex (male), dry humping, foreplay, fingering, depictions of violence that may be upsetting for some readers, I kinda made Johnny a dick so sorry to y’all beforehand, just some lovely and probably cringey au to have a valentine’s day feast before valentine’s day because I realized I haven’t written an au for my best friend in a while and the 90′s Love era Haechan has been attacking me for long enough so I decided to do something about it.

Brief: Captain of the hockey team, Honor Roll student, an amazing friend and the pride and joy of his parents, Lee Donghyuck certainly has it all to other people’s eyes, but what about the girl he’s dreamed of? No, he’s pretty much a great overthinker for that. But now that she broke up with her boyfriend, will his head get on the way of him getting to her heart?

Dedicated to @theravengoddess, happy Valentine’s day, bestie! I love you and thank you for being with me through the ups and downs 💜

After some long hours of practice, the hockey team was finally sent to the lockers by the coach, the old man’s chest was filled with pride by his back-to-back champion, the Neo Cultural Tech All-Stars. But of course, he didn’t want his players to slack off, so he wouldn’t let them know that.

The man of the hour, Lee Donghyuck, got out of his warm shower to dress up and go home, finding his fellow team players in the lockers. “Hey, nice practice today, Hyuck”, Jeno complimented, patting his shoulder. “Thanks, man. You were quite impressive out there too”, he smiled at him. “You guys wanna crash at my place to study for the finals? My last brain cell died trying to figure out the Algebra study guide”, Mark sighed, pulling his red hoodie down as he slipped his arms into the sleeves. “I’m down, I seriously need divine help for that one”, Sungchan said, tying the laces of his sneakers. “Me too, the question is if our savior will be there to help us”, Yangyang teased, looking at his team captain.

The blonde looked at him with a little smile, shaking his head. “You guys are truly a pain in the ass”, he sighed. “Oh, come on, Hyuck! I’ll pay for the pizza”, Yangyang pleaded, truly concerned about his grades. “You know if I don’t get at least a B, I won’t be able to stay in the team, what are you gonna do without your heartthrob?” he asked while pouting and batting his eyes. “But WinWin has good grades”, Mark teased, making his fellows laugh and Hyuck sigh. “Fine, but if you start staring at your phone instead of studying, I will whoop your ass”, Donghyuck agreed, and the rest of them high-fived each other.

“Ayo, Ten!”, Mark called out, looking at the guy who had just gotten out of the shower. Donghyuck saw something weird in him, he looked as if he was in a rush. “We’re having a group study session at my place, Hyuck will help us with the Algebra study guide, you down?”, he asked. “I’ll have to pass, guys. Johnny is pissed, it seems like he and Y/N broke up”, he said, making Donghyuck stop in his tracks, shocked. “What? What for?”, Mark asked again, concerned for Ten’s stepbrother, the star of the school’s martial arts team. “You know Johnny, she probably found out he cheated on her or something, but I’m still his brother, so I gotta be there for him”, Ten sighed, getting dressed within five minutes with his hair still dripping wet. “Anyways, maybe the next time, take care, y’all!”, he said before rushing out of the lockers’ room.

Jeno looked at his blonde friend, knowing exactly what he was probably thinking. His seemingly hopeless love was finally available again, how exciting was that? However, he looked rather terrified, and it was because his overthinking head was working at full speed.

Oh God, is she okay? Did Johnny hurt her badly? Should I text her? What if she doesn’t wanna talk about it? What if she doesn’t wanna talk at all? What if she doesn’t like boys anymore after this? Irene started dating Seulgi after Junmyeon broke up with her, what if Y/N does that too? Should I go with her? But I already told the guys I would help them... Jesus, Lee Donghyuck, you’re such an idiot.

Lee Donghyuck had many virtues, sadly his biggest enemy was his head.

“Guys, I think we lost him”, Sungchan said, as he saw Donghyuck spacing out. “What?” he said, once he realized his surroundings. Mark patted his shoulder, “Lee Donghyuck, you’re truly one of a kind. If y’all ready, let’s go”, he said, and their group left the lockers and headed to the parking lot, where everyone got into Donghyuck’s black Jeep to head off to Mark’s place. However, the team captain was still thinking about his long-time friend, who he’s had a crush on for the longest time. He simply shook it off, he was a man of his word, so he would help his friends and once they’re done with studying, his head would be clear enough to know what to do.

Because there was nothing better for Lee Donghyuck to clear his mind than a good Algebra study guide.

“Oh, man, thank God it’s over!”, Sungchan yawned, stretching after finishing the last problem of the study guide and the last slice of pizza left on the third box, “I get it all now, how did you do that?”, Yangyang asked, looking at Donghyuck with utter confusion. “Well, it’s quite simple if you actually get your head in it”, the blonde replied, saving the study guide back in his backpack before grabbing his phone, still wandering between texting you or not. It wouldn’t be weird, you’ve known each other since kindergarten and been friends for years. However, your ex-boyfriend, the widely-known playboy Seo Johnny, had kept you from talking ever since you started dating last summer, and honestly, Donghyuck didn’t want you to have problems because of him.

He loved you a lot to do that.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, Jeno, do you want a ride?”, you asked the only one within your group you knew didn’t plan on staying over at Mark’s or lived close enough to walk home. Jeno logically nodded, picking up his bag and saying his respective goodbyes. Of course, something seemed to click in Jeno’s head when Donghyuck offered to give him a ride home: you lived in front of his house. Obviously, he wasn’t going to point that out, knowing Donghyuck, he would take back his offer, and he honestly didn’t want to walk the ten blocks that distanced Mark’s place to his.

“You think I should talk to her?”, Donghyuck asked halfway through, looking at Jeno briefly as they got to a red light. Jeno sighed, taking his sight away from the window to look at his friend. “Honestly, Hyuck? You’ve been in love with her since fifth grade, you should gather the balls to tell her once and for all, it’s so fucking frustrating to deal with your overthinking ass head”, he replied, taking a deep breath afterward. What hurt Hyuck the most was knowing that he was right and that even after all those years, he’d always see you run into another guy’s arms.

First, it was Lucas, your boyfriend from sixth to eighth grade. He had a wealthy family and was the school’s fencing champion. And then, it was Johnny, who you’d been with since barely months after you broke up with Lucas. Sadly, it has always been the same for Donghyuck: as soon as he gathers the courage to ask you out, you’d already started dating someone else. You have a long, toxic relationship with the new guy, he breaks your heart, you go to him. It was the routine he was used to, the routine his thoughts reserved for him every time. But after parking his car in front of Jeno’s house, he decided that was about to change.

“You sure you’re okay? I’m sorry if I said something-”, Jeno tried to apologize, but Donghyuck cut him off. “It’s alright, Jen. You said what was in your head and I respect that, mostly because you’re right”, he sighed, looking down for a while before taking a deep breath and reaching out his hand for a small handshake with his friend. “I’ll see you tomorrow”, he grinned, as Jeno got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, drive home safely!”, the raven-haired boy exclaimed as he walked into his house. Donghyuck stayed outside for a while, and while he did, he sighed as he kept thinking what was the right thing to text you.

But decided to let all of that go, he just typed the first thing that came to his head and pressed sent, locking his phone so he wouldn’t keep looking at it on his way home.

“Johnny is a dick, and I think it’s time for me to say I told you”, Wendy laughed as you simply shook your head. Yeah, they all warned you, it’s true. But the truth also was you never really had super strong feelings for Johnny, nor Lucas, nor for any of the boys you’ve dated before. But then, why would you date them? Because you weren’t a fan of loneliness, and even though most of those guys were assholes —especially and at a ridiculous level, Johnny—, they wouldn’t miss the most stupid excuse to be with you when you were alone, which sadly because of your parents’ job was pretty often. “Yeah, I know I should’ve listened to you, Wen” you rolled your eyes as you threw one of your stuffed animals at your friend.

But as soon as she threw another one back, specifically the bear with the hockey team’s uniform, your eyes were about to bawl out. “Hey, be careful with this one!” you said, making sure it was still in perfect conditions. All of your friends looked at you, quite taken aback by your reaction. However, Demi, your neighbor, smiled a little before explaining your reaction. “All the other stuffed animals were from the idiots, but Lee Donghyuck gave her that one”, she sat next to you, as you both smiled while looking at each other. “Lee Donghyuck? As in the hockey team’s captain, Lee Donghyuck?”, Joy asked, quite excited. You nodded, letting out a small sigh as you thought of him.

“I’ve heard he’s gay, I mean, he hasn’t gone public about a relationship like... ever? And besides, he has rejected every girl that’s asked him out”, Irene said, quite as nicely as ever. “No offense, I mean, I’m obviously an ally... but, how come such a hot piece of cake like him has never dated someone?”. Seulgi looked at her girlfriend, quite shocked at her way to describe him. “Jeno told me he has a crush on someone since fifth grade, but he’s quite an overthinker, he needs to ask his left foot before moving the right one”, Demi chuckled, “But I think that’s cute, he’s been a good friend to Y/N as far as I’m concerned, and if he ever decides to step out of his shell, I bet he will be the exception to the all athletes are idiots rule”.

This last phrase stayed in your mind as Seulgi, Irene, Wendy and Joy left, as they had told Yeri they would go over to her house for a good spiriting session before the cheerleading championship you’d enroll into in a few weeks. You passed, you were scared as hell of those things, and honestly, you preferred to spend some quality time with your neighbor before she went overseas to a musical exchange program. “Ugh, I’m gonna miss you so much, bitch”, you said as you hugged her, making her chuckle. “Hey, I’ll be sending you as many pictures as you want, and I’ll buy you gifts while I’m there, I promise I’ll try every single street food dish London has to offer just for you”, she said, letting out a sigh as she watched through your bedroom’s window. “I’ll miss you and Jeno so much...”, she muttered. You playfully pushed her, “Hey, you’re with your wife right now! Stop thinking about your boyfriend, say you’ll miss me!”, you yelled at her as you both laughed.

Your phone vibrated as a message arrived, and you grabbed it from its previous spot in your bed. As you read who it was from, you simply smiled, something your friend didn’t miss out on. “Let me guess, it’s your gay best friend”, she mocked you, referring to Irene’s comment on the rumors about his private life. You simply looked at her for a second to return your attention to the text.

You typed the answer quickly, quite excited about the fact that he texted you first when it was usually the other way. Demi stared at you while you wrote the message, quite unsure as to why you looked so hyped up.

Hyuckie:

Hey, I heard about you and Seo, I’m sorry.

You felt a pillow being thrown your way, and you looked up only to find your friend looking at you, pretending to be pissed. “Hey, you’re with your wife right now! Stop texting your crush, let’s watch a movie!”, you laughed again at your silly “jealous” attitudes, and ended up turning on your laptop to watch a movie before going to bed.

You:

Hey... it’s fine, I was warned but I still did it.

How are you? I kinda missed you.

Of course, you’d chosen strategically to play the one movie Demi falls asleep watching so you could read Donghyuck’s answer to your texts, and you were a little too excited over it.

Hyuckie:

I missed you too, you should start cheering for the hockey team too!

Would you like to grab a bite tomorrow after class and catch up?

My treat ;)

You:

Are you asking me out?

You asked teasingly, making Donghyuck’s head insane as he laid in his bed, reading your message over and over again thinking about his next move.

Was it too soon? Is it too little? Should I say no? What if she was joking? What if she doesn’t want a date? What if I screw up and she never wants to talk to me again? Reply quickly, idiot! She’ll think you’re ignoring her!

Leaving his thoughts aside, he typed what his heart told him to and sent it, quite to your shock as you read it.

Hyuckie:

If I was, would you say yes?

Biting on your lip as Donghyuck’s hands trembled, you couldn’t hold back a smile. If your friend was right, this would end with the bad streak of dating idiots you’ve had so far, and you’d finally be happy with someone who actually gave you your place. So without thinking it any further, you replied something that made your friend’s heart skip a beat.

You:

Meet me tomorrow after class.

“You asked her out?!”, Jeno exclaimed in shock as he read the small text conversation on Hyuck’s phone. He nodded, and Jeno showed a huge surprised face, “What? I thought that was what you wanted me to do”, the blonde said, quite not getting his friend’s reaction. “I’m just... shocked. I thought it would still take you weeks, days at least. Hyuck, I’m so fucking proud of you!”, he hugged Hyuck as he patted his back. “Damn, our little Hyuck is finally growing up, this and the fact that we slew those Algebra finals is a matter of celebration!” Mark said excitingly. “You just wanted an excuse to throw a party, didn’t you?” Sungchan rolled his eyes, smiling at his friend’s enthusiasm.

“I think I’ll catch up later, I promised Demi I’d be with her tonight”, Jeno sighed. It was a mystery to everyone why he looked so down lately, and it was merely because Jeno wasn’t the sharing type. He liked to keep his problems to himself, in his books it was alright because everyone had their own stuff to deal with. However, quite frequently, the exception to that rule was Donghyuck, but he kept things to himself whenever they were with the rest of the guys.

So once the guys headed off to the library to study a bit more for the rest of their final exams, Hyuck patted Jeno’s shoulder. “I know something’s off, Jeno”, he looked at his friend in the eye, which made Jeno sigh. “Demi is taking off to London for the summer break, and God knows how much longer”, he finally told him. “And I don’t mean to keep her here, because I know that’s her dream, and had it been mine, she’d support me until the very end, but...”, Jeno stared at the ground as they kept walking, not really wanting to say what sounded so selfish in his head, but was truly the only thing that he had in his mind. “You don’t want her to leave”, his friend completed, wrapping his arms around him.

“Jeno, if there’s something I know for sure it’s how much you and Demi love each other”, he chuckled, trying to cheer his friend up. “You’ve been together... God, for as long as I can remember. You’ll survive this, you just gotta let things flow”. Jeno looked up at him with a little smile, “How come you’ve never dated anyone and you still give great dating advice?”. They both chuckled, only for Jeno to look back at him and pat his back, “That’s some great advice, Hyuck, you should follow it too”.

As they reached the exit, both of them went separate ways. Jeno’s words kept ringing in the back of Donghyuck’s head as he walked towards the outdoor field’s bleachers, sitting down as he waited for you still thinking about how he would manage everything. He made an elaborate plan right after finishing the study guide last night, with his mind clear enough to let him make his choices without any further doubts. He took a deep breath and followed the little pre-game ritual he had ever since he started playing hockey: he looked straight ahead and emptied his mind from everything but what he had planned for the day: making sure you knew he’d treat you better than the rest of the idiots you’ve given your heart to.

That was his plan for the most important task he’s had to date.

“Party at Mark Lee’s place tonight, girls!”, you heard Yeri exclaim as you got changed from your PE class in the lockers. The girls looked quite excited and you texted Demi to know if she would come as well, figuring that it would be somewhere in Hyuck’s plans for the night. “Someone looks quite rushed, do you have somewhere else to be?”, Joy asked you, as she slipped her red cropped turtleneck over her head. “I’m going on a date”, you muttered as the other girls looked at you, quite mesmerized. “A date?! With who?” Wendy had the courage to ask, and you smiled as you pointed at Donghyuck’s picture from last year’s yearbook. “Lee Donghyuck?”, Irene gasped, looking at you quite amazed. “Girls, there will be six more weeks of summer this year”. Your friends giggled as you shook your head. “I mean, you’re the first girl he’s asked out like... ever?”. You sighed as you put on some lipstick, blending it with the tip of your fingers.

Seulgi looked at what you were wearing and threw a piece of clothing at you, nearly making you smudge your mascara. “Hey!”, you exclaimed, quite shocked. “You don’t plan on going to Mark’s party later with that, right? Let alone to date the hockey team’s captain”, you looked at your plain red shirt and your white mom jeans, quite confused as you straightened the clothing ball your friend threw your way. “That’s my beloved white furry jacket, it will look cute with that and your matching bucket hat. And it will help you look like you made at least a little effort to look different today”. You dedicated her a little grin as you slipped the jacket on, finding yourself looking like a 90′s teen movie star. “Thank you!”, you told her, walking out the locker room as she yelled one final, “You better take care of it!”.

You jogged your way to the fields as you realized the bell rang twenty minutes ago, afraid of making Donghyuck think you’d forgotten or played with him. A part of you even thought he probably wouldn’t be there. However, you found him sitting in the bleachers, staring at his phone. “Hey, sorry, did you wait too long?”, you asked concerned, only to be greeted by one of his beautiful smiles. He got up, fixing his hair as he rushed down to your encounter, smiling your way. “I was talking to Jeno, I just got here”, he shrugged, a little white lie he made to keep you from feeling bad.

Because that’s how much he loved you.

“Oh, thank God, I was so scared...” you sighed, looking at him with a little smile. “Wow, I’ve seen you every day, yet you look so different”, you grinned, looking at how much his physics had changed from the little kid you remembered: he gained muscles, he was also taller than you remembered him to be, not to mention his golden-tanned skin looked somewhat more tempting than it did before. “Well, you’re still as beautiful as I remembered you to be”, he muttered, picking a lock of your hair behind your ear. That little moment had you feeling those cliché butterflies in your stomach like you’ve never felt them before. “Shall we go now?”, he asked you, reaching his hand out for you to hold.

His hands, good lord. You thought. There was definitely something about them that made you even more excited about holding them. As soon as you held his hand, it felt as if two pieces of a puzzle had been joined. As if the event was long overdue.

You walked over to the parking lot, where your jaw dropped as soon as you saw his ride. “Since when can you drive?”, you asked quite shocked. “I got my driver's license before the last championship, my parents gifted me this after we won”, he replied, opening the passenger’s seat door for you to go inside. “Wow, what a gentleman”, you said, acting as if it was a joke. But the truth was it somewhat made you feel good. No one had ever opened a door for you, and there was Lee Donghyuck, holding your hand to help you get inside his car after he opened the door for you.

Different from other guys you’ve had the chance to ride along with, Hyuck didn’t seem to care about your shoes being dirty when they touched the car, nor about you intending to touch the car. He made you feel as if his car was yours too, and you liked that. He closed the door once you got in and surrounded the car to get in the driver’s seat. You had this stupid smile on your face, and Hyuck noticed that. “What is it?”, he asked you, quite confused but still smiling. You shook your head, “Don’t mind me, I’m just recovering from the algebra test”. He chuckled, as he started the engine, “How come everyone says that? It was a piece of cake compared to the study guide”. You looked at him while laughing, shaking your head lightly. Ever since you were kids, Donghyuck was a genius with numbers. When the teacher asked him, he said it was because he liked to have an answer to problems, and that was when you knew you needed someone like him in your life.

However, due to the situation making you realize things in a totally different way, you surely were questioning the real intentions of that wish.

You stared at him as he focused on the driveway after lending you the AUX cable so you could choose the music, his focus unbothered even with your sort of intense glare. He truly looked like a 90′s boyband heartthrob. His sportslike red and white outfit along with the chains you remember giving him for one of his birthdays a while ago... he looked good. You also smiled a little as you noticed the color coordination you had unwittingly pulled off, you truly looked like a couple... and you liked it.

Donghyuck wasn’t blind, he noticed each one of your smiles but pretended not to since he liked to see you smiling, and his head was certain in the fact that you would try to hide them if he said something about them. “Where are we going?”, you asked him, quite curious about his intention. He wasn’t using any sort of GPS, so he knew where he was going, but that only made you more anxious as to where he was taking you. “Do you remember that place where your parents threw your birthday party in fifth grade?”, he asked, making you look at him with disbelief. “The arcade where I beat you in every single game?”, you giggled. “Yup, that one. I thought it would be nice to go back there, you know... for the memories”, he explained, only to add at the end, “and they also serve some great cheeseburgers”.

The pure definition of the word “nostalgia” hit you as soon as Hyuck parked the car in the place’s parking lot. It was nearly empty, with just some employees going around to check on the games and some people eating in the cafeteria. “Wow, this place is exactly like I remember, they haven’t even changed the games!”, you exclaimed as Hyuck looked at your excitement with loving eyes. You looked at the guy beside you, taking your wallet out of your purse. “Well, the food’s your treat, then mine’s the games”, you said, you didn’t even let him say a word before you went over to the cashier to pay for the coins you’d play with.

The old lady sitting behind the desk looked at you with a kind smile, “That young man came in yesterday when we were nearly closing, he asked us to reconnect some of the old machines, now I get why”, she told you while looking for a few bags of coins, counting them in a machine that later poured them in a little cup. “He sure is in love with you, you’ve got quite a catch of a boyfriend”. You were about to tell her he wasn’t your boyfriend when you turned around, and your eyes found him focused on a crane game, not exactly knowing what he was so focused on getting but certainly going down the memory lane to a 12-year-old Donghyuck pulling an adorable teddy bear out of the game and giving it to you two days later with the hockey team’s jersey and his number in the back.

“I totally agree”, you muttered, smiling as you saw him pulling out the toy he’d gotten. He was so good at those games, at every game being honest. You still couldn’t believe you’d beaten him back in the day. Once the old lady handed you the coin-filled cups, you paid her and she handed you your change. As you counted the money, you realized something was off. “Excuse me, ma’am... you gave me extra change”. She shook her head, looking at you with that same smile. “Half of it is on the house, I let you pay the other half because the young man told me that you were quite stubborn”, she giggled, “Now, go and have fun! Live while you’re young”.

You smiled, thanking her as you walked back towards Donghyuck. He smiled back at your happiness, handing you an adorable stuffed animal. “How come you’re so good at those games?”, you asked him while giggling. “It’s just a matter of space measuring, calculating the probabilities of the toy slipping out or falling off the crane, choosing the most available toy out of the bunch... and I’m boring you”, he smiled nervously as he saw you looking at the toy, an adorable white bear with a red bow. You looked at him again only to find him scratching the back of his neck.

“You weren’t, I like that about you, Hyuck”, you answered honestly. “I hate it when people are overconfident while giving answers to those questions, like when they say ‘I just can’ or that sort of stuff”, he looked at you while you spoke, making you feel listened to. He was truly listening to every single word that came out of your lips as if it was the most interesting speech ever.

Because he loved listening to you.

You spent every single coin playing different games, just like you did when you were kids, breaking your own records in every single machine you played in. You laughed the whole evening, and yet again, you managed to beat Donghyuck in every single game. “Booyah! In your face, twentieth game in a row!”, you mocked him, making your old little victory dance as he smiled, sighing. “Damn, you haven’t lost your touch”, he said, pretending to feel defeated, “Are you hungry yet?”, he asked you kindly. You nodded, and both of you made your way to the cafeteria, as you jokingly bragged about your smashing victory.

The old lady was patiently waiting for you to show up, with two gorgeous bacon cheeseburgers, french fries, and two milkshakes, what Donghyuck had told her to serve you the night prior. You looked at him in shock, “You remember all of this?”, you smiled as you sat down, thanking the lady when she left you your food. “It’s the house’s special, how could I forget it?”, he replied, as if wasn’t anything special. However, you knew deep down his intentions were all the opposite. You started eating, nearly crying at the sensation of memories flooding your head as soon as you gave it a bite. “It’s been so long since I’ve last had a burger this good”, you admitted. It wasn’t pretty usual for you to hang around these places anymore. It was pretty far away from your reach, yet Lee Donghyuck made it his task to make you remember the good old days.

“Why did you bring me here? I want the truth, Hyuck”, you demanded once you were done eating. He looked at you while taking a sip of his strawberry milkshake, swallowing before giving you an answer. “Well, a few years ago, on your birthday, your mother hired an entire show from the old animatronics because your friends loved them”, he started the story, one you certainly remembered. “However, you were scared shitless of them, so you ran out of the room as soon as the lights turned off for them to start the show. You thought no one noticed, but I did. And I ran behind you, only to find you looking at the zombie videogame your friends wouldn’t want to play with you because they didn’t like it”.

He looked at his hands, playing with his fingers as he left out a small chuckle. “Back then, you had this silly nickname for me, because of a bear you saw at the zoo that was named that way”, he said, only for you to complete his sentence. “Haechan”, you smiled, and he nodded. “You looked at me and smiled, and you said ‘Why are you here, Haechan? You should be watching the show, mommy thought you’d like it’. And I took out the coins I had in my pocket and told you-”. “I bet killing zombies with you is more fun”, you muttered, making him smile as you remembered it too. “Mom was so pissed she didn’t find me when the animatronics started singing the birthday song”, you chuckled, making him laugh as well. “That night, as we played, I remember thinking ‘wow, her smile is so pretty’, and it wasn’t until you first made that victory dance of yours that I realized how much I liked you” he confessed finally, leaving you speechless for a second.

You were that girl, you really were the girl Lee Donghyuck was in love with.

“You like me?”, you asked, still shocked. He nodded, not really knowing what to do with his hands. “I’ve been wanting to let you know for the longest time, but whenever I gathered the guts to do it, you started dating someone else. So I decided to keep it to myself, to be there for you as a friend if you needed me. Because even if it hurt me to see your heart break, I wanted to be there to help you fix it”, he explained to you, as the tears started coming out of your eyes. “You mean... when I started dating Lucas... you were planning to confess to me?”, your voice cracked, making him stop everything and reach out to hug you. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, caressing your back. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, nor to feel guilty or bad for me. I was upset, I’m not gonna lie... but I also decided to set you free. If you came back to me, it was because it was meant to be. And you came back every single time, so I waited until the right time until I finally decided it was now”, he told you, as you pulled back slightly to look at him in the eyes.

“Hyuck...”, you couldn’t manage to get any words out of your mouth, but he made you feel as if it was okay to leave him hanging after such an adorable confession. You felt like the biggest trash bag on Earth, and the way he treated you made you feel worse and at ease at the same time. “You need to heal, and I get that. You went through a lot with Johnny, and I know that. I’ll wait until you’re ready if you want me to, and I’ll totally leave my feelings aside if you want me to. I’ll leave it up to you”, he told you, caressing your cheeks and adjusting your hat back in its place. “Mark has a party over at his place, do you want to go?”, he asked you softly, wiping your tears away.

You sighed, looking down for a minute. “Hyuck, I’ll give you an answer, I promise”, you told him, which he let out a little giggle. “It’s truly okay, Y/N. Come on, Jeno told me Mark’s already bragging about his b-boy moves”, he told you, reaching out his hand again after leaving a good tip for the old lady, thanking her again before the two of you left. He always found a way to make you feel better, even when he was probably the most upset.

Because he loved you.

“Yo, Hyuck! You came just in time for another round of beer pong!” Mark greeted his friend as he saw the two of you walking into the party, crowded as usual for one of Mark Lee’s parties. “You guys look fresh! Make yourselves at home, drinks at the kitchen, snacks at the table, dance floor by the pool, and the rooms upstairs are exclusively reserved for the hockey team, so you’re staying over tonight, I’m not asking”. Hyuck looked at him, “Sure, because you’ll get so drunk tonight we’ll have to babysit you again”. Mark stopped in front of him, patting his shoulder. “You know me so well, Hyuckie”, he said, messing up his hair before going back to the party. “Ayo, Winwin! Let’s go get more booze!”.

You looked at Hyuck. “Do you want anything to drink?”, he asked you, raising his voice slightly for you to listen to him despite the loud music playing in the back. “Just some Coke” you replied, and he nodded, walking over to the kitchen as you looked around for Demi, finding her sitting on a couch near the beer pong table. You hugged her, noticing she looked a little excited. “I want every last drop of the scoop, how did it go?!”, she asked you, her smile nearly going from ear to ear. “He likes me, Dem, I’m the girl Jeno was talking about. And I blanked as soon as he confessed to me”, you said, quite embarrassed. “He planned the most adorable evening ever, he did all of these adorable things for it to be perfect... and I couldn’t even say anything”. Demi looked at you concerned, only to change her expression as soon as her attention drifted to someone walking over towards you. “Girl, I don’t mean to be rude, but we really should-”, she started as she helped you get up, only to be cut off by a voice you knew pretty well.

“I see it didn’t take long for you to go over with someone new, huh?”, he told you, looking at you dead in the eye. “Well, the difference, Johnny, is that I at least waited until breaking up with you”, you replied, certainly not scared of him. “Lee Donghyuck? That shitball, seriously? So you’re messing up with my reputation for being some faggot’s cover?”, he asked you, chuckling at the idea, making Jeno and the rest of the hockey team walk over towards you as soon as they acquired awareness of the situation. “You ain’t not even a quarter of the man he is”, you replied and felt him grabbing onto your neck, freezing at the closeness. “Oh, yeah? That wasn’t what you said when I made you my bitch”.

“Hey, asshole!”, you felt released as someone pushed Johnny off of you. Demi held you protectively as Jeno walked over to the two of you, checking out to see if you were okay. “Oh, if it’s the man of the moment, I was looking for you to give you my congratulations, I guess some people settled with used things”, Johnny mocked, only to receive another push from Donghyuck. “You can say all you want about me, but leave her alone or else”. Johnny laughed in his face, “You? You will beat me? You would risk getting your ass kicked for some wasted-ass bitch? Face the facts, Lee! Lucas used her, I used her, God knows how many more have, she’s a fucking slut-!”, he was about to say something else when Donghyuck threw the first punch, with such strength it left Johnny bleeding. You gasped, knowing well enough Hyuck wasn’t the fighting type, let alone the type to start a fight, let’s not even mention starting a fight with the school’s martial arts champion.

As soon as he got punched, you felt your heart stuck in your throat. He tried throwing punches at Johnny, but the ladder returned them faster and harder. Jeno, Yangyang, Sungchan, and Ten rushed to break down the fight, looking at how Hyuck’s blood started to stain the floor. “Enough!”, Mark yelled walking into his house with Winwin and the booze they went for, with that authority voice that made him so respected and loved by everyone in his class. “Johnny, get the fuck out of my house! I give two shits, you have absolutely no right to disrespect my team captain, nor a friend of mine, nor a lady, not under my fucking roof! Get the fuck out before I call the cops!”, Ten walked him out before he looked for further trouble, mouthing a “sorry” your way. You rushed over to Donghyuck, looking at Mark once you realized how his face was bleeding.

“Do you have any first-aid kit?”, you asked him. “Upstairs, third door to the right”, he guided you. You held Hyuck’s hand and guided him over with you, quite concerned about the mess left. Jeno looked at you, knowing exactly what you were thinking. “We’ll clean this up and keep things going as if nothing happened, you go and make sure he’s alright”, he told you, “That idiot thinks everything so damn much, I can’t believe he didn’t think this through... just go with him, it’s gonna be alright” you nodded lightly. You would, you had to make sure he was alright because that fight made you realize just how different he was from every idiot you’ve dated.

Because it made you realize how much he loved you.

Having taken off Seulgi’s coat to keep it away of the blood, you found yourself tending to Hyuck’s wounds in one of the bedrooms bathroom. However, he looked more concerned about you than he was about anything related to his well-being. “Stop”, you ordered. “Stop what?”, he asked, authentically confused. “You know it’s not the first time anyone slut-shames me, right?”, you told him, passing a cotton bud over a slit in his lip. At least once the blood was off, it didn’t look that bad anymore. “It’s quite curious, due to how many campaigns women around the world hold against it, to think that the first ones to publicly degrade me were all girls”, you sighed, not wanting to look at him as you spoke. “Every girl that liked Lucas, every girl Johnny cheated on me with, every girl who wouldn’t make it past the cheerleading tryouts...”, you cleaned the mess you’d made, throwing every last piece of cotton you’d used into the trash bin.

“At this point, you could even say I’m used to it. I would even hear made-up stories about how I would be up for gangbangs with Johnny and his friends, how I sold some old man my nudes for him to pay my college tuition, how I was the one who made Seulgi and Irene bisexual...”, you finally sighed, letting out the tears you’ve held back so long it started hurting. Hyuck noticed that, and just like he did in the cafeteria, he held you close. “I’m tired, Hyuck”, you finally admitted, and he caressed your hair. “I know”, he muttered. “I’m so fucking broken I’m afraid to break the only guy who’s ever really loved me right”, you cried out, just wanting to let everything out as you pulled away from his hug, wanting to look at him as you confessed what has been going on in your heart. “Because I fucking love you, Hyuck... but I’m not even close to deserving-”.

You were cut off by his lips crashing onto yours, a sweet and delicate kiss was what you got as a response. Once he slowly pulled away, he looked at you in the eyes, his hands lightly resting on your cheeks. “You deserve the universe and more, nothing less”, he muttered. The tingling sensation that kiss left on your lips was something you’d never felt after kissing anyone before. And it was the final push for you to finally give in, for you to finally let yourself be loved.

You pulled him close again, your lips crashing on each other as your hands wrapped around his neck, his hands falling from your cheeks all the way to your waist, hugging you the way you did with him. The kiss felt so natural you just sunk into it, as well as he did. Even when his head was going insane with all kinds of questions, he decided to shut them off and follow his own advice.

He’d let things flow.

You broke apart only to guide Hyuck back to the bedroom, he looked at you as he read through your intentions. “Are you sure about this?”, he asked you, caressing your cheek. You nodded, looking at him with loving eyes. “This is the first time I’m a hundred percent sure I want to do this”, you told him. He took a deep breath and walked over to the door, locking it first than anything. He looked nervous, and what the girls had said earlier came to your mind.

“Is this your first time?”, you asked him, to which he nodded, an adorable blush tinting his cheeks. You smiled at him, he looked so adorable you wondered who was that intimidating hockey player everyone saw in the field. “It’s okay, just guide me wherever you feel like going, I’ll follow you”, you told him as you got close to him again. You learned to be cautious ever since you lost your virginity, you’d taken birth control very seriously since day one because your mother and your friends guided you to do so. So even now, when the moment came, you were calm knowing it would be alright, and you wanted Hyuck to feel that as well.

He held your waist, pulling you closer lightly and guiding you into a kiss that got more intense with time, he pulled away for a while only to sit down on the bed, pulling you into his lap to start kissing you again. Your hands grabbed his cheeks, caressing them as the kiss kept going. His hands ran down your back as the heat started rising between you, Hyuck’s kissing abilities were way beyond average, those lips of his felt like cotton candy against yours, and every time your tongue met his, you felt one step closer to heaven. He pulled you away briefly to strip down his torso, and your hands felt curious to wander around his strong build.

He played with the bottom of your t-shirt, looking at you before doing anything else. “Can I?”, he asked gently, his constant asking for consent made you even more sure you were doing the right thing. You nodded and helped him out pulling the red shirt off, revealing your black plain underwear. Once your tops were thrown somewhere on the bedroom floor, he went back to kissing you, his kisses slowly going down your neck as you reached your back to undo your bra, letting your chest fully naked for him to kiss. He took that as your consent, and his kisses went all the way down to your breasts as his hands caressed your back once more.

Little moans left your mouth as Hyuck started kissing sensitive spots of your skin, the fact that he used his mouth to roam around your skin was enough to make you feel like this was the best you’ve ever been treated in bed, and adding up the amount of love you could practically touch in him made you enjoy everything even more. You could feel something starting to press against your core as you started grinding over Donghyuck’s lap. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane, princess”, he groaned, in such a raspy voice it made you want more. You kept grinding against him, loving the small grunts that would come out of his mouth as he kept kissing you.

From one moment to another, you felt the bedsheets in your back, as Hyuck took off his pants, feeling the pressure of his throbbing erection painful enough to rush things up a little bit. Still, he managed to be somewhat delicate "throwing" you over the bed. Once there was nothing but his black boxers keeping him from complete nudity, he crawled on top of you, looking at the button of your jeans to ask "Can I?". You unbuttoned your pants while looking at the guy with a pretty smile, biting on your lower lip as he smiled at you, undoing the zip and taking the heavy fabric off your legs, then looking at your black lacey underwear to ask yet again: "Can I?". You giggled, sitting down only to reach for his lips.

He kissed back as your hand guided his to your dripping center. He looked at you, as his head made an effort to figure out what to do at this point, but remembering the shows he watched with the guys, he figured to start moving his fingers up and down, to his luck, on what turned to be your clit. Small moans made their way out of your lips, and due to your arousal, his fingers managed to slip inside you. He kissed you as he kept moving his hand at a medium pace until you pulled him away, only to leave him face up over the bed. You looked at him, playing with the elastic band of his Calvin Klein underwear.

"Can I?", you asked him softly, only for him to chuckle in embarrassment. He nodded lightly, making you smile as he watched your every move. Once his boxers were no longer a burden, you sat on his lap, making him curse as you started moving on top of him. "You'll set the pace", you told him, leaning down to kiss on his lips. And as soon as he aligned his throbbing erection to your entrance and slowly entered you, he swore he could see the stars. With his hands on your hips, he commanded you to go slowly, as you both moaned out how good it felt. Nice and slow, an expression you hadn't known before, certainly became your favorite after that night. And you kept kissing through the whole thing.

Because that's how much you loved each other.

After that steamy moment, you laid next to him after he helped you cleanse, your body holding his closely as he kept your hand in his heart and his arms surrounded you, one of his hands playing with your hair. He looked at you adoringly, unable to find fitting words to how beautiful you looked to his eyes in that moment. You closed your eyes for a few minutes, listening to his calm, steady breath and feeling his heart beating under your hand. For a moment, he even thought you'd fallen asleep, and that made everything ten times better to him. You slowly opened your eyes, finding that adorable smile you loved so much.

You smiled back, looking him in the eyes. "I thought you would be tired", you muttered, caressing his chest lightly. "I'm way too over the clouds to fall asleep right now, Y/N", he replied softly, making you lean over to kiss him lightly again. You looked at the hour in the digital clock that sat on the nightstand, it was 1:27 AM and the party seemed far from over. The music was still as loud as it was when you walked into the room to tend his wounds. You chuckled as you thought about the people you'd left downstairs, "Do you think Jeno and Demi are waiting for us?", you asked Hyuck, making him laugh a little. "Well, I hope they sorted things out if they are. Jeno was quite concerned earlier", he sighed, making you think the situation through.

Demi would leave in just a few days for that summer program, and Jeno would stay for the hockey team's summer camp, which was pretty much mandatory if he planned to keep his place as a headline player in the team. You knew how important he was to the team, but you also knew Jeno loved your best friend more than anything. And you knew for fact distance wasn't compatible with relationships.

"I think Jeno bought that plane ticket in the end", Hyuck shrugged, making you look at him in shock. "What do you mean?", you asked him. "Well, ever since Demi first applied for the program, he talked to the coach about it. Of course, the coach took a while to understand his issues, but as soon as we won the championship again, he gave Jeno the greenlight", he explained you, staring at the ceiling as he spoke. "Mark and I offered to help him with the expenses, and the coach even booked him in a good hockey camp in London", he smiled at the thought. "However, he's held back because he knows how much this means to Demi, and he didn't want her to lose focus because of him. If there's one thing the coach taught us well, was to get our head in the game as soon as we entered the field, and he didn't want to keep her from doing that. But I think Demi and him talked about it today, because he looked happy while talking to the guys before the fight".

You looked at him still in disbelief, making him giggle. "Is there something on my face?", he asked, and you jokingly punched him. "I thought he and Demi would break up! How could you know about all of this and not tell me?", he giggled and held you close again, as you "fought back", pretending to be angry. "Don't be mad at me, princess. Jeno had his reasons to keep my love for you a secret from Demi, I had mine not to tell you about this", he asked you softly. "They will be having fun in London, you and I will stay here. I think we should join them downstairs if neither one of us can sleep, just so you can have the tea spilled from them".

However, you shook your head. "No, the door is still locked and I still want some sort of compensation for keeping me from knowing my OTP found a way to make it through the challenges of life!", you asked as you grabbed his cheeks, making him smile and sigh. "Say no more", he said, turning the lamp off before kissing you again.

Happy Valentine’s season, everyone! If you love someone, let them know.

#haechan #nct haechan #nct dream #nct 127 #nct #lee donghyuck #nct lee haechan #nct lee donghyuck #nct haechan fluff #fluff #kpop valentines day #theravengoddess #I MISS YOU UNIVERSE

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 3 years

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🌼 any of them

Whoops, wrote a fic

Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

An optimist would look at the world of divination with wonder. The universe is a but a magnificent hall of tapestries, beautiful pieces of art woven into anything you could imagine. Tapestries where you are a hero, tapestries where you are royalty, tapestries where your people live with riches, tapestries depicting your eternal victory over your enemies. The universe is endless and bountiful, for in the future, all futures are possible.

This is how Astor usually can depict the good fortune tellers from the worse.

If they’re an optimist, they’re most likely a faker.

The only true divinator that he had met that was even a bit of an optimist was his mother, and even then, he had always had the sinking feeling that she hid a deeper sorrow behind her simple shoes of colorful flames and shining moon and starlight. No, it was quite hard to stick to true, unfiltered optimism in this field, as while it was true that all futures and choices were possible, that freewill ran its course through all who walked the vast possibilities of the universe, the issue came in the fact that you could not travel it to and fro.

There are futures where you live, there are futures where you achieve your wildest dreams, timelines where your childhood is happier, and timelines where you find true love and satisfaction.

But you aren’t in those timelines. The future you have is this one, and it is set in stone.

Walk all the roads you want, say all the words, read all the stories, but when a seer analyzed exactly what world we live in, exactly what end is destined for this string of the universe, there will be no holding back. There is only the unfiltered, raw, typically pessimistic truth of the end. Savor it.

“In truth, Elane, I hate my job. Fear it, even,” Astor set his teacup down, looking out the balcony towards the inky, midnight view. “I fear one day I will find the prediction—the true, ultimate glimpse into the night, that seals in the fact that we’re doomed.”

The Queen only cocked her head with a smile. “Well, I’m flattered that there’s still a ‘we’ in this scenario. Good to know I’ll be joining you in the lockup when my mother find our contraband cucco nuggets—“

“I’m serious, Elane.”

She only laughed quietly, before leaning back in her chair, and gazing out into the pleasant evening. “I know...”

There was a quiet between them, not quite awkward or stiffening, but quiet in the way that you might hold your breath after someone embraces you warmly. Quiet in acceptance, quiet to make room for the sounds of something rare and fickle.

“I swear, I might retire early,” Astor finally said. “Quit while I’m ahead. Head off to Hateno or Mabe and bury my head in the sand.”

“You might want to try Gerudo then, if sand is what you’re searching for. I’m sure Urbosa would be thrilled.”

“Tsk. I am inclined to disagree.”

Elane chuckled again, and she let the quiet embrace her for a moment.

“Eternal doom aside, for a moment, I would posit that there’s hardly anything to fear. You’ve foreseen my daughter’s growth, analyzed the future livelihood of the kingdom, and predicted our victory over Ganon. I’d say it’s hard to bargain with that.”

“Maybe, but I could be wrong.” Astor circled his finger on the lip of his cup. “It happens, people make a prediction, but miss one star, or slip up one word...or perhaps one cow suddenly dies, or one ember quickly fades, and suddenly we’re actually in an entirely different timeline than predicted.”

“Didymos Astor? Wrong about something? Oh my, I never thought I’d see the day...” Elane smiled to herself again as she lifted her cup for another sip.

Astor clicked his tongue. “Well. You should hope I’m not wrong about anything. If someone of my skill makes an incorrect prediction, it would probably be disastrous for everyone.”

Elane winked as she set down her cup. “Well, good thing you’re a prodigy, then.”

“Good thing, indeed.”

Quiet keep their third company once again. Astor still had not sipped from his cup, but Elane was already heading for her fourth refill, no doubt begging for any energy after tucking her daughter to bed. A young toddler with enough energy to power a Guardian army, Elane has always found it quite odd that she used up a lot of her energy to annoy the Royal Seer. It was charming to see him get put off by a Mallory’s boundless curious aura, but mostly relieving in the sense that the Queen could get a moments rest and trust little Zelda would be alright.

Elane looked back inside through the half open door, and smiled at a bundled sleeping figure, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals. She then turned back and finally noticed Astor’s continued silence on the next refill.

She sighed. “Although I would be saddened to see you leave,” she began, “If a retirement would make you happy, Astor, I would loathe to do anything to stand in your way.”

He looked up at her, analyzing her body language and expression. She was genuine, of course, as she always was in these sorts of talks. Astor finally let himself exhale in peace, as he smiled and shook his head.

“Unfortunately I don’t think it would do me much good, anyways. Location won’t let me escape my own thoughts and visions.” He took a sip of his tea—a bit citrusy this evening, a hint of apple—and relaxed. “I’d imagine His Majesty would miss me dearly, and I simply wouldn’t want to leave him in distress.”

“Ha! Oh yes of course, Rhoam would be crying tears if you left us...” she replied, sarcastically. “Tears of deep, deep sorrow.”

Astor looked out into the night in silence again, not touching his cup.

“But I’ll tell you what Astor,” Elane began again. “If you ever receive that world dooming prediction, whatever may happen that may instigate your view of the deepest hells,” she raised her cup. “You come find me, and we’ll have a drink.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A drink? What sort of drink?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you like. Tea, wine, beer, water or juice if it’s your fancy. Whatever will keep your spirits high.”

Astor smirked, solemnly. “I don’t think you understand just how severe and dreadful certain predictions can be. When we say ‘all futures are possible,’ we do mean all possibilities.”

“And I understand, dear seer. I truly do.” She tilted her head as she kept her cup in the air. “But the way I see it, is that with divination or not, doom and hell come into people’s lives one way or the other. But it hasn’t really stopped the majority from loving their lives now, has it?” Her eyes twinkled like starlight. “Dearest Astor, if our destined doom is predicted one day, I command you to at least smile through our tea party.”

Quiet.

He finally sighed, the corners of his lips perking. His protests drowning in her expression.

“I suppose if you’re the one pouring, it’d be difficult to refuse.” He raised his cup and clinked it with hers.

She was dead eight days later.

With her death came the final factor. The final star.

“Your daughter is destined to fail us,” he said again. “The Calamity shall rise and consume us all, and she won’t stop it in time.”

Rhoam slammed his fists on the desk, but the seer did not flinch. “We’ll train her hard, we’ll start now, even! I’ll get those clerics from the temple to teach her the starting prayers!” he yelled.

“It won’t work.” Astor replied, simply. “Perhaps she might attain them down the line, but she most certainly won’t awaken her powers by Ganon’s rise. It’s over.”

“You told me we could do this!” Rhoam pointed a finger, accusingly. “You saw our prosperity, our victory!”

“That was what I initially saw, yes. But unfortunately we live in world where the Queen of Hyrule is dead, and thus the threads of our future weave accordingly.”

“You’re a liar!” Rhoam bellowed again. “You saw her death, saw our end and lied to us since the beginning, haven’t you?!!”

“Don’t you think that if I knew Elane would die, I would say something?! That I would give ample time for her to say goodbye to you and her daughter??” Astor finally raised his voice, met with equal silence. “I failed to correctly analyze our timeline the first time around, and for that I am sorry. But I can not control what pieces of the future fate allows me to see. It’s not an open novel for you to give me a bad book report grade on. It’s a museum of endless tapestries, of which I am task with analyzing one stroke at a time to identify which is woven to a singular man, and the fact that I have given you a complete enough answer now is a gift within itself, so don’t even try to accuse me forgery and lies.”

The two men clenched their jaws, staring angrily at each other.

Astor finally whispered. “Overtime I might gather more specifics, but overall—this is over.”

Rhoam balles his hand into a fist. “We’ll start a new schedule for Zelda first thing in the morning—“

“It won’t work, it’s futile—“

“We’ll make it work—“

“This is set in stone, this is the world you live in—“

“Well what if you’re wrong again?”

“I’m not.”

“But what if you are?”

“I’m. Not. I’ve read the signs again and again and again, in fact I’ve been reaching the same conclusions repeatedly for the last four weeks. It. Is set. In stone.” He tapped his finger on the wood with each syllable to emphasize. “Perhaps the futures of prosperity are accurate for the Rhoams and Mallorys that live in a different time, but unfortunately for us, we live in one where Elane is dead. This is our reality and you’re doing no good denying as such.”

Silence.

Rhoam made his way towards the door. “You’re a liar.” The seer scoffed. “You’re a liar and you don’t know what you’re saying! Borderline treason if I’m being honest! You’re pathetic, and a rotten fake—“

“If it pleases His Majesty to confirm the integrity of his humble subject,” Astor cut in, sarcastically, “It might be good to know that also I’ve predicted you won’t imprison me, or exile me, or execute me, given you’re still ever reliant on my uncontested skills for more personal matters. That, and you wish to try and keep me around to hopefully prove me wrong, in which you can then tell yourself you’d be in the right to truly punish me.” He stared the regent dead in the eyes. “But don’t worry, you won’t.”

Rhoam slammed the door shut as he stomped off.

That night, Astor has another dream. Or perhaps it was a vision, he wasn’t sure, as the details were so surreal and horrific and captivating that it would have surely been a blessing to chalk it up entirely to vivid imagination.

There were screams and the sound of rocks crumbling. Bones were cracking and monsters were squealing and shrieking. And be felt his arms burn, and he felt his soul drain, and he looked down to see his skin peeling into dark flakes, his muscles, sludge. And in the distance, a young woman with golden hair laughed at him, but her eyes were hollow and gold. And she laughed and laughed as his body was slowly broken to pieces, bones torn asunder, skin burned to smoldering malice, senses vivid until the final moment when he woke.

But the good thing about nightmares, was that...that was it. There was no where else to go. There was nothing left to offer. No more pain to fear.

It made sense of course. Of course, of course. He never went to the funeral, he never offered his sympathies. There was no longer anything to mourn, as he allowed himself to view the world in its true, disgusting form. The people were doomed, and the dead, well...perhaps they might have deserved it. Yes, that was the only way this all made sense, of course. He even stopped trying to warn other folk after a few too many dozen harsh rejections to his character. No, now in complete isolation and resignation of his path, there was nothing else that could possibly drag him back to—

“How do I die?” Zelda Mallory Hyrule asked, one day.

At first, he was confused, and he turned in his chair. “What?”

She was seven at the time, and it was truly an odd and concerning thing to be coming from a seven year old girl’s mouth. Or perhaps it wasn’t, given the circumstances.

“How do I die?” she said again. She was laying down on his worn carpet, fiddling with the frilled edge.

Was she truly that bored? Already out of other questions? Hmph, he had always warned her to stay away, as a seer’s office wasn’t really meant for childish entertainment. Yet still she always came and asked to hide away from her father, and, well...anything to spite that man...

“Why do you ask?” he finally replied. Had someone said something to her? A threat? He clenched his jaw. I swear, if that fool tried to force her powers by—

“You’re always going on about how I’m wasting my time with praying and stuff...but father says I still gotta to stop the Calamity or else we could all die.” She didn’t look up from the bits of carpet string she was playing with (and contemplating on popping in her mouth), “So I figured if you tell me how I die we can settle the debate for good!”

Astor just sighed. “Well, of course you d—“

He stopped himself, but not for the reasons a more put together person, might. Not because of the generally frowned upon action of telling a child how she dies, no, that was not exactly beyond him. No, Astor cut off his sentence simply because it had crossed his mind that—

“...I’m not entirely sure...” he whispered.

He suddenly stood. Walking towards the other end of his office, carefully stepping over the child. “E-Excuse me a moment.”

Why had he never considered this? Of course, he had seen the signs clearly enough, the visions, the stars. A girl cries over a corpse, a light vanishes in the night. Malice plagued the sky and dooms the day. But did the Calamity actually kill her? Does she drown in rubble and malice like the others? Slain by a demon or monster perhaps? Or if not, then, would that mean...?

The princess soon forgot about the question by the next day, and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next.

Astor spent nearly eight sleepless nights into finding an answer.

But he never truly did.

These things happened more times than one may think, when it came to predictions. Vagueness was commonplace, but specificities and straightforward answers were about as rare as a green sunset. Of course, he knew she would die, goddess blood or not, she lived the life of a mortal. But how? When? While it certainly wasn’t impossible to predict a person’s death, but whatever the circumstances of Mallory’s was made the process was infuriatingly impossible.

It was possible she would die of malice or suffocation under rubble, even circumstances where she dies at the Ganon’s hand himself. But then there were clear visions of her living, walking through a grassy field, ruins in the distance covered in leaves and moss, her turning and calling to a friend to keep up with her pace.

But no, nonono. She would die during the Calamity’s rise, that was the majority of what the futures offered to her were. That was the probable outcome.

But the factors and visions and signs and alignments were so fine and minuscule in difference, that Astor truly couldn’t a true statement, a true prediction, a true answer to the question. What timeline did we live in?

It taunted him.

Maybe it was better if the question was put to rest, did it even matter?

“Mallory?” he asked. “That’s a stupid name.”

“What?! No it’s not!” Elane laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Please, YOU’RE not one to talk.”

“Well as a victim of stupid first names, I think I’m qualified to speak accurately on the subject.”

“Aha! But it’s not technically a first name.” Elane tapped his head. “It’s a middle name, her first name would be ‘Zelda,’ of course.”

“Yes, and that is also a s—“

The queen shoved his shoulder into the wall before he even finished the sentence. “Oh would you shut up...”

He laughed, unconventionally carefree. Her Majesty’s happiness these days truly was contagious. Or perhaps that was a side effect of pregnancy? Did all expecting mother’s give off this aura?

“I think it’s a wonderful name.” Elane said. “Reminds me of a cute little duck, like a mallard!” She tucked her arms and flapped her elbows to imitate as such. “Quack, quack!”

“This is further adding to my argument actually”

“Hmph! Ok then Mr. Overseer of all names” She tapped a finger to his chest. “If it’s such a stupid name, then when she starts getting bullied for it around the castle, I shall expect you to take care of her in full.”

He scoffed. “Oh, I’ll be sure to do so. She’ll definitely need it.”

Elane pecked his head with a kiss.

“Good! I grant you my blessing lovingly tease her, as well. And I expect the best from you, Astor!”

His face suddenly warmed for some reason, and he couldn’t form words.

“What?”

“.....W...”

He was suddenly whack in the head with a rolled up piece of paper. Astor sprang awake from his desk. “...W...What...?”

“Morning, Mr. Astor!!” Princess Zelda-Mallory beamed. “And happy birthday!!! Sorry I woke you up early, but I needed to give this to you before the winter solstice festival later and—“

She continued to ramble on and on, but Astor simply opened the rolled up paper she had handed to him. It was simply filled with dozens and dozens, arguably hundreds, of hand drawn stars. In the corner was written, “You always look at the same stars so here’s some new ones!” in crude purple crayon. At the time, he failed to notice the accompanying note on the back that read “One for each year of how old you are!” Thankfully he was too busy looking through the different stars, with varying degrees of sparkles and smiley faces.

He finally looked back at the princess, who was still rambling on and on about her day, and her father’s day, and her newest stuffy dress, and her latest adventures with her stuffed toys, and—

“Why are you always here, Zelda?” Astor finally said. She stopped talking, looking at him, quizzically. “I mean...” he grumbled, “You know I don’t really like you, right?

“Eh, I don’t care. I think you’re neat!!” She held out her arms as she zoomed around his circular office. “Your room is so cool! And you got fun books!”

“Necromancy isn’t necessarily what I would consider ‘fun’ reading material—“

“Plus your outfits are cool, and you’re super smart, like my mom.”

He blinked.

“Plus, you’re the only one that’s not mean to me about my dumb powers. But really that’s just a chair on the top!”

“Do you mean cherry on top?”

“No! I meant chair! Watch me!! I’m gonna do a backflip off of this—“

“NO.” Astor immediately stood up, and snatched the girl off of the wooden chair. “NO. No backflips.” He set her down on the rug and pointed to a side of the room which held a broken table, stool, and a few old chairs—the victims of the princess’ previous acrobatic attempts.

She crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. “You’re no fun!”

“I’m running out of furniture, is what I am.”

“But I’ll let this slide since it’s your birthday! Hmph.”

She started pulling at the loose threads of the carpet. “Don’t know why you had to stop my birthday backflip! Who cares if I get a little scratch?”

“I do—“

“YOU DO?!” Mallory was immediately up and clinging to his robes.

Astor sputtered, instinctively waving his arms to free himself from the child’s grip. But then he finally processed her question, and...

“I...” He looked at her starlight eyes. She had that stupid, naive grin that he always remembered from her mother. A stupid, pathetic, horrible, terrible, optimistic smile.

He finally scoffed. “I just can’t have you getting hurt on my watch, as otherwise, I’d probably be a dead man. That’s all.”

The princess lifted her hands in a “hooray!” fashion, and yelled the exclamation, accordingly. She then resumed her zipping and zooming around the room, much to Astor’s unexpected relief.

That night, he visited the question again.

Why? He didn’t really know.

The question wouldn’t offer him anything, it wouldn’t relieve him of anything—in fact it really did just the opposite. If he found that died miserably, it would be another scream in the nightmare, another nail in the comforting coffin of despair. But if he someone found that she lived, that there was a day after the Calamity, where even a child such as her could possibly prosper...

Having hope and seeing it fail anyway would probably be the most torturous of all.

Again, he had a dream, of a world tainted by blood and malice. But this time he was floating. He was floating and watching the end of it all.

Castle Town was nothing but ruins and ash, and no colors existed but red, black, and grey.

He couldn’t hear anything but a shrill hum in his ears, but he knew there was screaming. He looked to his hand, expecting to see malice or blackened skin, but instead found a strange floating device in his palm. It spin slowly, pink constellations drifting across its surface.

The hum in his ears turned into a groan, and then a whisper. It said something familiar, but he was sure he had never heard it before.

It is time.

The next night he had a dream of a girl standing in a green field, calling out to her friends somewhere behind her. She rested under the ruins of a collapsed pillar, and ate a homemade sandwich with a memorable smile.

Astor reached a conclusion.

In most futures, the girl dies horribly. He wrote in his journal. To be expected, I would assume the rise of the Calamity isn’t exactly easy to survive from.

But what I have discovered is a very specific set of circumstances that lead to a more favorable outcome, at least for her.

I have no way of knowing if it accurately depicts the comings of our time, or another. There are too many variables and specifics. Too long I have spent trying to discern our fate, but the probabilities and possibilities for doom are so interchangeable that it really go either way. The only truth I know is that she lives if—

He paused, tapping the dry quill to the desk again in thought. He dipped it once more.

I’ve decided that if I ever find myself in the scenario where I can solidify her a more favorable destiny, I will take it. I can only hope dare to alter my existing nightmare into something different, there’s really nothing left to lose, is there?

Astor leaned in his chair for a moment, savoring the silence of his office. He looked out the window and took in the night. The stars were gorgeous this evening.

Although if it fails I hope it kills me.

Call it arrogance, but I don’t think I can handle being wrong again.

The seer sighed, then suddenly flipped to the next blank page, angrily.

If I had never met her it would have been fine. If I had just minded my own damn business and continued to work in being resigned to our fate, at least then I could have—

There was a soft knock at his door.

He knew who it was.

Astor pinched the bridge of his nose as he opened it. “It’s past 2am, Princess, what could you possibly have to tell me?”

She looked down and shuffled her feet. “I had a nightmare...”

“Yes, people do have those sometimes.” He immediately closed the door.

Another knock.

After a moment, Astor opened it again. “Don’t you have guards outside your room, how did you sneak up here?”

“Secret tunnel!” She grinned, proudly, as she replied with a sort of sing-song tone.

“That’s nice.”

The door slammed shut again.

She knocked once more. There was the longest pause.

“FFFFFFine!” The world was out of his lips before he even fully swung open the door, and Mallory happily scrambled inside. “But no touching anything, I’m working.”

“It’s ok, I just wanna stay up all night and read your books!” She was already scrambling for the necromancy section, again.

Astor sighed, and went to slump back into his desk. The princess was already sprawled across the floor, distracting herself with another stack of wondrous, ill-recommended book. He didn’t really care.

I don’t really care. He wrote once again. I know there are futures where I dedicate myself to the Calamity, and she dies anyway. I know it doesn’t really matter, I know it’s hopeless to care, and that’s why I don’t.

He looked back at Zelda, he saw her slowly blink back her tiredness. He knew in a few hours or so, he’d have to drop her sleepy figure back off to those useless guards, and berate then for letting her wander off again, as it always was.

If I do this and it’s all for nothing, he began, I fear it will be worse than if I had just stood to the side and perished. It’s already doomed, and this pathetic, foolish optimism might cause me to turn this nightmare into something even worse.

He sighed, and the hours passed as he just sat with his thoughts.

Zelda was using and open book as a pillow.

Astor opened the door, and went to pick her up.

I’m not living through another nightmare. He thought, as he descended the stairs from the observatory. The girl’s breathing was steady as she wrapped an arm by his shoulder.

If it fails I hope it kills me before I see it. He repeated again.

I can’t handle being wrong again.

#Didymos Astor #out of character #oc ask game #I’m actually really proud of this I might shove it into canon story one day

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pumpkinpot · 3 years

Text

Hoshi

A/N: this is part of the Citrus Dome Sci-Fi collab. this is also pure fluff. no smut, no real angst. just spooky summer vibes and poly love. I hope you enjoy. (I’m sorry for grammatical errors in advance.)

synopsis: since beginning your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou and Ochako Uraraka you’ve developed a love for exploring abandon places with them whenever you three have time to explore. This time, so happens to land on a derelict observatory. (additional head canons for this story on my tik tok under pumpkinpots)

“It says here it was abandoned in the mid-nineteenth century due to the spike in light pollution with the growth of the city,” you say, pointing to the dome at the peak of the building. “All of the mobile telescopes were transferred to the university's observatory, while this placed rotted away.

Uraraka half listens, levitating sheetrock from the doorway and discarding them in the nearby field.

“Why just abandon it?” Katsuki asks, fiddling with varying lenses in his camera bag. “Couldn’t this have been a museum or something?”

“Yeah,” you agree, shifting a glance to make sure Uraraka doesn’t need help. “It looks like it was bought by a merchant in the eighties who wanted to turn it into a house, but he was indicted for tax evasion before the renovations ever finished. It hasn’t been touched since.”

He scoffs with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Rich idiots.”

Uraraka brushes specks of dust off her palms across her cut-off shorts before urging us alone. “Shall we?”

It takes two and a half pushes to nudge the door wide enough to squeeze through. The observatory opens to us with a groan of whining metal and the scratch of loose dirt on concrete.

Centered in the main foyer, a gaping mural of blue and white cobblestone depicts a dusty map of astrology stars.

Katsuki has to be coaxed with a promise to be flashed to pose under the Taurus constellation for a picture, meanwhile, Uraraka floats just above Pisces with a cute puffy cheeked expression.

Names, small sayings, and symbols decorate the wall in vibrant graffiti, the place a cocktail of color and wild Ivy.

"It's a lot more lit than I thought I'd be," Uraraka says, stuffing her flashlight into her bag.

Katuski keeps the light attached to his camera lit as he weaves in and out of rooms, zooming in on old books and broken equipment.

We follow him through a puzzle of what seemed to be living quarters and small classrooms, ending in a half oval auditorium.

At the center of the stage a white globe balances on a pillar of cement.

“What’s this?” Uraraka asks.

You touch where someone had attempted to derail the sphere like a baseball before trailing your eyes above the layered seating. “It's a projector ball. Technicians would likely project light from there into the ball to make it seem like the planet or star they were studying. That's why it's,” you knock on the sphere's cool solid surface. “Crystal.”

Uraraka shines her phone’s light into it, the shattered pieces reflecting shapes in a dim glow.

Katsuki points the camera into the orb, the bluish tint reminds you of the similar one in the abandoned lighthouse you’d explored with them two years ago. Though that one would have lit from the inside.

Quickly you explore the base and second levels, eager to get to the actual observatory. It's evident where the renovations to make this a home had been started and never finished. Small cracks in the floor, sealed with caulk, loose wooden planks pillaring knocked in walls.

It could have been a beautiful home, you think to yourself.

Up the second flight of stairs gradually more and more light fills the space until you are bathed in the orange glow of early dusk. A large open scare slits the dome, edging with rust and ivy. The circular room holds nothing of true value, nothing left behind but broken tables and a ladder to the viewing balcony tailing the opening of the dome.

“The big telescope that would have been here-” Uraraka says, fiddling with the screw holes in the floor, “- would have been a refracting telescope. It uses small bits of glass to magnify what you’re looking at, then is bent back through the telescope hitting the eyepiece. The other kind is a reflector,” she continues, “It's got a primary mirror at the bottom of the lens into a second mirror than a third eyepiece mirror. This one is mostly used to see the different parts of a star to see what it's made out of.”

Katsuki and you exchange looks of pure astonishment. "how do you know all this?" you ask.

She fishes a gum wrapper from one of the holes, tossing it to the side. “Before I was accepted into UA I was really considering going into astronomy. I thought it fit so well with my quirk, but the courses were too expensive.”

"More expensive than UA?" Katuski asks, refocusing his camera.

She nods, seeming just as dumbfounded as us.

“Do you think it could work on my explosions?”

“If you were in space maybe,” you hypothesize, “but in that case, we probably wouldn’t see it for a long while.”

He seems semi disappointed as if his evening plans had been somehow derailed.

You run your hands across the walls of the dome, dusk sun baking its metal frame like a soup pot.

For a moment you just watch them. It’d been so long since the opportunity arose for the three of you to go exploring. With you still temporarily stationed in the American hero commission and those two workings in Japan it was rare to find time to skype let alone go on adventures. You were lost in the bliss of having your partners so near without having to scream about a lost wifi connection when your hand hit something protruding from the wall.

“What are these?” you ask, inspecting circular gears attached to a crank.

“It looks like the wheel to turn the dome,” Uraraka says.

Katsuki zooms in on the puzzle of rigid plates. “This bitch turns?”

“Yeah, that slit doesn't move so the dome has to, to accommodate where in the sky they were looking.”

Katsuki fingers the gears a moment, mapping its track all across the sphere. He traces along the parts not layered in rust until he’s back at the start. “Do you think it still works?”

“Not without some serious lube and strong arms.”

“We’re one for two,” you suggest.

Katsuki hands over his camera to Uraraka, positioning himself opposite you to push the lever, while you pull left.

At first, the dial stays put, its stance unforgiving, but after a bit more pull than push a deafening whine reverberating through the entire observatory.

No visible move happens until the second crank roundabout when the shift of light against concrete becomes clear.

Katsuki’s eyes light with sheer amazement as the entire dome rotates around you. We are halfway through a full rotation before Uraraka shouts for you to stop.

You push on the lever stilling its movements as quickly as you can.

She holds a finger head tilted to the side. “Do you hear that?”

Your breath balloons in your chest as you lean in closer. The tiniest of whimpers echo around the dome from the viewing balcony.

One after another you file up the ladder, hopping on the edge of the dome. Balancing on the concrete crease between the moving track and the rest of the building you search for the sound.

“Here!” Uraraka yells from the other side.

You sprint as much as you dare, teetering along the two-story edge.

She squats over the body of a squirming animal, a tuft of fur caught in the track of the dome's rotation. She coddles its little frame, before reaching a hand out to you. “Y/n, your knife-”

Hesitantly you hand it over. She snips away the stuck pieces muttering thanks that none of the actual tail got caught. She folds the blade back into itself, pinching leaves and sticks from the animal's fur and tossing them over the side.

She holds it up, floppy ears and a black nose making it a nearly recognizable creature. A puppy.

He looks to be light brown, but that could be the soot.

Katsuki checks around the dome for any signs of a litter or mamma, before joining us with a shake of his head.

The pup squirms and with an open mouth, letting all sorts of noises tumble from his dirt-covered tongue.

Uraraka floats the puppy to the floor of the dome, as we file down the ladder. You empty the contents of your water bottle into a cup for drinking and the rest onto its back for cooling.

His fur peaks through white and brown spotted under layers of grime.

“Well,” Uraraka says, “we’ve been talking about wanting to expand our family.”

“I suppose there’s no better place to start,” you add, both of us looking to Katsuki for consensus.

He passes glances between the three of us. “Fine, but I get to name it.”

“Alright, but we get veto power.”

“Explosion-”

“Veto,” you say in unison.

He looks around puffy-lipped. “I didn't even get to finish.”

“Explosion nothing,” Uraraka clarifies.

He’s silent for a long moment looking around the space. “Hoshi?.”

“Star?” you confirm.

“This observatory was used to study the stars, wasn’t it?” He bats.

You and Uraraka exchange a satisfied, yet surprised look. You hadn’t expected something so- normal. This is after all the same man that made you name your golden pothos “boom boom boi” in his honor.

“I like it,” you say.

“Approved,” adds Uraraka.

We better take our picture before it gets too dark,” he says, turning away so you can’t see the blush on his cheeks. He switches out his filming camera for a smaller polaroid, propping it up on the edge of a broken table.

He runs back as the timer ticks down. He slides to your right side, Uraraka on your left. Their arms link behind you as you hold Hoshi up to your mid-chest. Clicking down from five you all give your cheesiest grins. A rectangular card spits from the bottom of the camera.

Ochaco shakes it a few times, swapping you a picture, for a puppy.

You wait for the picture to pixelate before opening the ninety-cent notebook of film slips and position it in the next available spot.

Urarka’s cut-off shorts and Katsuki's tanned shoulders are a stark contrast to the puffy blue coat and chunky knit beanie from the last abandoned mansion expedition last time. Before that, the three of us accidentally matched our windbreakers to Midoryia during a tour of The Ghost Candy Shop in Kyoto. We look like a group of tourists.

The small book seemed to be filling quickly despite the rareness of time to get away. Memories pile up from when it was just Uraraka and Katsuki to when you became a staple to their adventures. They’d given you responsibility for the book to garner your importance to them in their relationship until the reasoning for the gift became nothing more than routine. You were theirs, and they were yours.

Now a new member had sprouted in your little family, and if you squinted, you could imagine the rest of the pages being filled with the pup in aged years to maybe more as time goes on.

Right now, you were happy with the three and a half of you.

#bakugou x reader #uraraka x reader #bakugou x uraraka #ochako x reader #mha x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x y/n #Uraraka fluff #mha fluff

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romanceboys · 4 years

Text

(interview) w korea september issue 2020 — reptile

1. i was surprised to learn that this is your 13th year since debut. within a company, the years almost reflect the experience of a vice department head. that’s right. though there are things i’m seeing for the first time at this point, i think there’s a lot that has remained the same. shall i tell you something funny? early in the year, i transformed into my debut appearance from when i was 16 with a bowl haircut and had my picture taken. i put it up on instagram and as i watched my fans briefly mistake it for an old picture, i thought to myself ‘well at least my face hasn’t aged much yet.’ haha. 2. today, i get to meet one of the personalities i’ve been very curious about personally. how should i put it, you seem like a person who possesses a perfect narrative. oh my, thank you. 3. maturing steadily after debuting with shinee in middle school, you broke away from your image as the group’s youngest and instead donned the clothes of a solo musician. all 5 of your solo albums have been recorded as hits. now you are a member of superm that has gone global. even a narrative within a coming-of-age novel could not be as sturdy as this. when i look back on my life, i find it quite fascinating. i entered the company at the age of 13, and this year i turned 28. i’ve lived half of my life as a singer, i realise this when i think ‘i’ve run along the same path for a long time’. i think... i’ve been very greedy. it was through this greed that i was able to debut in a team called shinee, and consequently receive solo plans. once, producer lee sooman told me to bring him a recording of any pop song. wondering ‘what’s going on?’ i prepared for it and submitted, and soon after my solo album was released. thinking back, it must’ve been a test. i felt a sense of accomplishment in these things. that too very deeply, of course luck was on my side too. 4. a methodical company like sm couldn’t have proposed a solo career so lightly. there were a couple of tell-tale signs as far as i could tell. my singing parts were little during debut. after all taemin had the image of the one in charge of dancing. then my parts started to increase gradually, this could’ve been one of the signs. back in the day i used to stay back in the practice room till dawn. the employees working late would see me and the word probably went around. they must have felt sorry for me. a skinny boy practising by himself till dawn (laughs). 5. were you the type to stay back later than the rest in the practice room? i would go to the practice room as soon as we wrapped up our schedule. i’d practice till sunrise then return to the dorm and prepare for the next schedule immediately, i spent a long time doing this. 6. it was at the time of ‘sherlock’ in 2012 that your stage presence started to shine in shinee’s stages. thereafter, it seemed that you enjoyed your time on stage thoroughly. when did you begin to realise that only you were in command of your own stage? there were a couple of times... sherlock was one of them. sherlock was an album that came out when i was 20, right after becoming an adult, it was then my attitude towards performance changed. in those days i challenged myself to ‘not to do what was expected/fixed.’ usually our gestures at certain sections of the song are fixed beforehand, from sherlock onwards however i tried my hand at different things without reserve. it was my way of approaching the audience with sincerity, and my way of improving in the future. back then i would notice variations (in my performance) everyday when i monitored myself. 7. frankly, isn’t it difficult for someone to have made such a prominent leap? i think it might have been because of the long hiatus before sherlock. i was able to prepare well so my growth was likely more obvious when i stood on stage after a long time. how should i put it, my members were very stimulating for me. since the hyungs aren’t ordinary people (laughs). this is something i’m confident about, even if you say that most of the shinee members are main vocalists, none of us is inferior to the other, everyone is so talented. with these thoughts verbatim ‘i must survive in here,’ ‘i need to finish what i started,’ i practiced. i couldn’t not have made the leap with such stimulation and not to mention my greedy nature (laughs). spending time together with the members made me realise that we started to resemble each other in some aspects, thanks to them i was able to broaden my perspective and become aware of my undiscovered talents. 8. the prologue single ‘2 kids’ of your third album ‘never gonna dance again’ released in august. as i was listening to the song, i suddenly became curious about the lyricist and looked them up. my impression was that the language of the lyrics was raw and honest. the lyricist turned out to be you. my intention was to include everyday, colloquial speech. i’ve written poetic and abstract lyrics before, but while working on ‘2 kids’ i wanted the listeners to easily grasp the emotions at once. since i’ve released many songs like ‘danger’ with vivid concepts and sensual performances, i expected there to be some distance between me and the public. i found that i shouldn’t stray too far. in any case, i’m a pop singer. i thought to myself let’s meet the public halfway, and the result was the lyrics for ‘2 kids.’ it’s the brightest of all my title tracks (laughs). 9. i find two interesting points here. first, you are completely aware of your identity as a pop singer, second, to do that you work hard to keep close to the public. of course there are times when it doesn’t work out (laughs). for instance, when we’re deciding on the title track for a shinee album, my opinions always diverge from the members’. after listening to our fourth album title track ‘view,’ i said ‘no way, it can never be this!’ (laughs). what i’m after is, how shall i put it... there is a side to me that wants to experience things profoundly. for example, if i were to express love, instead of depicting it one-dimensionally, i’d prefer to do it maniacally. i like taking it one step further to appear twisted. 10. that’s amusing. it’s probably because i’ve seen your easy-going appearance on tv a lot, i would have never guessed for you to approach things ‘deeply’. profound people tend to be like that. ‘multi’ people are able to do several things at once, i can’t do that. i have to dig into things deeply at a time. that’s why when my members and i receive the same schedule notice, i’m the only one who always forgets it (laughs). 11. oho, this makes me curious about your taste in pop culture. i really like the british drama <black mirror>. i get hooked on the unusual. like mind-boggling things? i used to watch movies that weren’t popular because such movies are less likely to repeat contents that have already been consumed. but then i slowly began to enjoy light films as well. these days i leave a movie running in the background while i do other things. back when i would look for an independent film or thriller of my liking, i’d get extremely exhausted after watching it. they require so much focus that they sap my energy. 12. we were talking about lyrics but somehow ended up here (laughs). if you were given the opportunity to write lyrics again, what kind of story do you want the lyrics to convey? i like philosophical lyrics. for instance, a song called ‘soldier’ from my solo album deals with religious content, it varies from time to time of course but well if i were to write again... i think about this a lot these days. i want to change myself, i want to shake off my image uptil now and be reborn again. 13. why is that? i want a colour that is more concentrated and unique. as if i'm debuting again, i want to show something completely new that i had not before. 14. but aren’t your comebacks always novel? a musician like you who does diverse and experimental concepts is rare. is that so? sure the concepts are always new but... these days i think about how i want to change myself as a person from the very inside. instead of putting a facade on display, i have a thirst for wanting to show a more humane, genuine appearance. all humans experience moments of weakness and dysfunction. i think these moments definitely hold some beauty in them. the moment a person breaks down. it’s the only way one can get up and overcome difficulties again, i believe showing these sides of me, all of me, unabashedly is a path i need to walk as an artist now. 15. honestly, i’m excited for your third album because i heard this album reflects your ideas the most. what aspects of the production were different this time? firstly, i personally cast and liaised with the music video director. i thought it was important to work with the director one-on-one by keeping mediators to a minimum. through several meetings we mulled over every single thing like concept, outfit, hair and makeup. i offered my opinions too: ‘because i’m thinking of leaving a connecting link in the prologue, since there are two albums that would release following ‘2 kids,’ i want to drop certain keywords in the music video.’ fans usually call this a ‘bait’ (laughs). 16. the choreography stood out the most in the ‘2 kids’ music video. you weren’t simply moving to the rhythm, rather weren’t you moving your body guided by emotions? actually there were barely any plans to include dancing scenes. but i thought you never know so i quickly prepared a choreography the day before i left for paris. initially, i had a ‘dramatised’ (borrowing elements from drama) choreography in mind, but the director was expecting something modern. in the end, we expressed it well with a choreography that the director and i came up with after finding the perfect common ground. 17. personally i think a dramatised choreography would have been quite alright because ‘2 kids’ is a universal love song. i told the director i wanted to look miserable and pathetic through and through, like falling into a bottomless pit, wrecked, to be found waking up in the middle of the street, that would do too. why did i want to be that wrecked? i don’t know. there’s just a lot that exists within me. and i might have wanted to express that.... 18. with your first solo mini album <ace> you proved your grit as a solo musician to the public, and i believe your second album <move> reified your colour. i think taemin is a musician who doesn’t need to prove himself anymore. having reached this status, you’re releasing your next album <never gonna dance again>. did you ever think that this album could be it? rather, i hope that this album can be my ‘turning point.’ just as how it was during sherlock, i hope this time it changes my identity completely, as an individual and as a performer. people might like this album or find it mediocre, but i try not to care about these things now. 19. were you the type to stress over feedback? yes. because there are many people who are uncomfortable with change. but then i realised we’d never be able to free ourselves from within if we continued to be tied down. so now i’m trying to notice these things less. 20. have you ever had this thought? that looking back, the experimental has always revolved around you. as i said before, i think there is a lot of something within me (laughs). people have recognized that, there’s a lot i want to do. there is a greed for wanting to be different from others. it’s not that i want to ‘appear’ different but truly be different. 21. do you think there is an aspect of you that others can’t follow? i can’t seem to figure it out. i’m looking for it. however, my satisfaction level with myself tends to be low. and it’s something that has been guiding me till now. 22. what helps you recharge the most? i like lower-body bathing so much (laughs). as soon as i get into the bath, i automatically end up going ‘euu’ ‘aah.’ i soak my body completely, light up a scented candle, then let my body warm up like this. 23. while watching your vlog-like youtube content taem-log, i wondered ‘does he have an affinity for household goods?’ since the camera often captured your surroundings, i noticed pretty glasses and a colourful coffee machine adorning your cupboard. not at all. my mother did all of that (laughs). she’d say ‘this would suit taemin~’ then set it up prettily for display on the shelves. sometimes i do think i’d like to furnish my house with antiques if i were to move in the future. this is a bit funny but i find the houses in old horror movies so pretty. 24. i saw a bottle of moët & chandon in your refrigerator, is champagne your regular choice of alcohol? i rarely drink. i usually receive gifted alcohol quite a lot, it all goes to my father (laughs). my mother brought the moët & chandon and left it in there. i asked her to leave a pretty bottle in there at least for decoration purposes, so she probably brought it just for that? (laughs). 25. what kind of a person is 28-year-old taemin? i sort of want to set things ablaze. i want to put up a spectacular finale of the opening act. 26. how do you want to be remembered as a musician? as a great person. i say this knowing it sounds a bit grandiose but it’s my mission. 27. i can see it. the bigger you become the larger the impact you can have on society. i will become that person. so that many people can hear the message i want to convey.

translated by romanceboys — take out with full credit (source)

#shinee #taemin #p:taemin #w korea magazine september issue 2020 #interview #translations #e:never gonna dance again #enjoy!

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